Days when life is hard and ugly i want to be **** with you
So I text you something *****
and you don't respond right away
and i feel a bit sorry for myself
and i lay in the bath
and i talk to my mother exclusively in Spanish about this and that
and i feel a bit better
then life doesn't feel so hard and ugly
and I contemplate the crutch of you
a **** sunshine boy in my mind
an ideal who is a fantasy
And says he just wants one thing
but really i think you love me
or maybe i mean as much to you on the flip side
of this coin we share
as I do to you but in a different way
are you aware of the fantasy?
or maybe I'm silly to think that I know how you think
you smoke
oh no, you smoke
you poor stupid little thing
did you start to be edgy?
How stupid
why, your poor shiny pink lungs
why damage yourself baby boy
i want to heal you
and i want you to heal me
you did heal me that day
and thats why i come back
and i healed you and thats why you come back
or maybe my ***** really is that magical
well its both
either way we both come back around
the promise of more of something
the tether between us
I learned that you mother passed when you were a boy
you texted me on mothers day
before that you texted me on thanksgiving
youre so avoidant and too cool for school
but you also said you were "holding it down in california"
so there's no way you can be that cool
i know you're not
but I want to bite down on the back of your hand
while your fingers are shoved down my throat
and up my ****
while you smirk down at me
and i melt in your hands that control me
own me
heal me
hold me
i want to take care of you so badly
and i deeply wish to be taken care of by you
but you know yourself well it seems
or at least you know what you are capable of
will this be like what happened with the french one?
but the reverse?
Will I be the one
with the partner
who still reminisces over text
but can't meet up while in the same city
and eventually it must be cut off in the greatest of what ifs?
perhaps
I think of him and it's unfair
though when i first saw him i was disappointed by what i saw
i thought his knees were too skinny
but really he was so hot
but really i was out of my mind and hadn't slept and
then we kept up the online infatuation for
three? four years?
with even more down the line
who is he to me?
what karma is there?
that we never met when i was in europe for over a month
but even in that time
it was right that we weren't together
because i was head over for that other one
oh so many ones
and yet here i am
alone
writing a poem to someone who will never read it
pining for who knows who
wanting a husband to manifest in front of me
and wondering if he does
will i still want you?
will i ever see you again?
what a joke if not
what silly kids we are to maintain this
to keep these candles burning
I supposed i can review our karma and
see what past lives loom

”Please stop”
Your hand molding to fit the shape of my breast
“Please stop”
You do it again
What’s supposed to be affection
Has turned into you crossing the line

I say stop
You keep going
I say top
You try to make me wanna keep going
STOP
please…
You’ve crossed the thick line
It’s grown thicker with everyday with you
But now..
Now you’ve crossed over it

How dare you keep going when I say stop
How dare you keep molding and squeezing
I said stop can you not hear me?
You’ve crossed the line I thought you would never cross

For what?
For your enjoyment?
Your fingers are blades.
Cutting deeper into me with every grab, *****, and rub
The line is gone how could you do this.?

One full year of trust down the drain
I said stop
It started with just little things that annoy me
Now you’ve crossed the line
You hurt me.
HOW COULD YOU.

Maybe I’ve let the line grow to thick
Your supposed to be the person I trust
But now you’re someone I’m scared of.
What if you take it to far next time..
What if this leads to ****..

You’ve crossed the line
I trusted you.
Now it’s gone.

so-*******-superior
i'm really like drunk right now
and i didn't mean to text you
text
you
and ididnt mean to tell you i wanted to go down on you

you;re like
my ex
and i don't fukcing love you anymore
but like i'm so like in love with you
and i'd do anyhting for you back

'm like that travis song
hooked on feeling low
baby -you gotta put me in that 90210
cause only beverly girls get this fu cked up

i don't like getting drunk
it makes me crazy and all i wanna do is like
talk to you
talk to youuuu
tell you likee really ***** things
cause i wanna make you feel good inside adn like outt

you're so lovely
and i love when you do your eyeliner
and braid your hair
and like breathee because you're so lovely

im lsitening to deftones
because it make me happy
and makes me stop thinkng about you
even kthough i'm writing a poem abotu you right now

cause i m still in lvoe with you
like bad
i want you back
and the more bacardi i have makes it like way worse
because i wanna text you bakc right now
intread of listening to cherry waves and trying to focus on other things
that didn't breka up with me or reject me

i want us to be in in love again
i want to taake a flight to baltimore
meet you in the middle
so we ca n kiss and make up
becausei am in love with you

and im in love with you
and i'm really in love
because even if we dont talk for like weeks
i know you;;e thingking ofme !!!! and i know you loveme too right ?

i wanna be in love with you again
i want you to tell me youre in love ewith me again

Never ask anyone
why the person is silent
it's over-stepping the line-
unwarranted and unpleasant

you offered to make it sweet
with soft whispers, light but lustful little touches full of love

but you also offered to make it ******* hurt.
to mark my body with double bites of your canines

like a ******* dog, don't treat me like your puppy
make it hurt, baby, please.

i want everyone to.... to see how much attention you give me
don't **** a kiss into my neck, sink your teeth in until you draw blood

daddy said-- no, he promised didn't like to hit me,
but really he did. he must've loved it with how often he did.

loved to see me writhe on the floor,
salty tears spilling from my eyes with a little hard-on

rutting against the luxurious rabbit fur
begging for the belt

but once, one evening, splayed out by the fire
he let his hand slip, the buckle slicing my pale skin, painting me red

he hurt me. he felt so bad, that after that, it was my birthday for a week.
i got so much attention.

so please, mingi-ssi. make it hurt.
bruise me more. i want everyone to see how much attention you give me.