I told her about my pin badges -
It was that kind of intimacy.
She went away
and we talked every day,
But brought me back a fridge magnet.

Several years ago I became depressed
And fled from my independence
Into the seductive arms of my home
In the hope that it would cure me of my
Chronic feelings of discomfort, angst, and misery.
In my head, it was a sanctuary,
A place I could go to free my mind
And find warmth and comfort.
Nothing has changed in my head
And I had forgotten how much of a nomad
I actually was and that home is just a myth
We tell ourselves to make ourselves feel
Warm and fuzzy and not so desperately alone
And now I'm wondering why all I found here
Was perpetual headaches and continued heartache
With the added benefit of cake.

I've been a nomad oft to roam
For what seems like an endless time,
But meeting you, of all girls, here,
And strolling down Dun Laoghaire pier
Against the full moon's ghostly shine
Whilst French kissing and holding hands;
Debating life's endless demands -
You made me feel like I was home.

Pardon my French but -
That **** Parisian accent,
The mischievous smile,
The devilish sense of humour
And, my heart, she's fire
******* hell

Penning rhymes post-coitally
Always felt like it was supposed to be
But now there's something rather empty
About composing post-*******.

A lesbian nightmare is nothing
At all like a lesbian dream -
She had captured my heart
with her smile and eyes
But played for another team.

I'm, almost always, a hopeless romantic, and never a misogynist, but some girls are just *** personified - doused in an inevitable emptiness