I’m not a love poem
a box of tissue
on my bed,
vibrator
in hand,
batteries
fucked out
dead ~
thunder storms
inside
my cravers cave
weep
in cum-misery ~
no more late night
w/ Jay Leno
replaced by
narcissistic Friends,
’cause you called it quits,
I want to
slit my wrists,
lights out
at ten ~
in the morning,
anti~valium in my head,
decaf wine in one hand,
texting you w/ the other:
‘I never said I was a love poem’
hit send ~
it’s sunny outside
w/ rain
wilting roses.
BoySlut 