Personal · Poetry · Writing

Parties, Prostitues and Freaks

I saw what you wrote to her last night. The sentence structure and GPS never lie. 

I know you so well baby, I know you better than you know yourself.


I wait for your next message, time passes much like the usual dreams. I walk in crazy ways and paint the walls with memories of people you will never know and I will never see again.


My phone buzzes and I know it is you.

You tell me you need me again.

Another favor because of your inabilities.

At least this time there was regard for my feelings.


I think about how she has kept my Stevie for this last year.

And it makes me laugh that you still need me.


I enjoy light Schadenfreude every once and in a while.


Deep in my heart I still miss you and love you. I think about the times it was better.

Then worse.

Then horrible.

I don’t know what you are or how we could ever be, so I let the dazing pass.


I think about last night.

Gloved and a strangers member in my hands.

They call me freak and I recall how you always brought that out in me.

I scare most men and I know that’s what you like.

I think about your hands as I watch him cover his face.

You are always with me, in the most compromising place. 

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