I tried to show him Jupiter last night
and the night before, my *****
and before that, the knuckles of my fist.
Then, also, the sinking of my soul on far too much Adderall
and the nature of a festering crush-- in a huge symbolic gesture.
Because saying, "I fantasize about this man daily"
would be too obvious and obviously intentionally hurtful.
This man barks about fidelity, wretched women and suicidal Nihilism
while I scribble, "Oh my ****, if it was me..."
and I watch his legs move and my body groans
groans into the next two hours.
I think about them both performing *******
on the beautiful, small breasted women I ******* to.
Today in History, I used to ******* to women of my own body type
because I once found myself desirable.
Now it's the women under the "Most Viewed" tab.

I love hearing a strong woman say "****".
I love hearing him blend nasty words with rhetoric.
When I retell moments, I fantasize foul language.

I wish I was a scribbler like Ry
who doesn't scribble anymore.