Here we are again...
Falling harder than Gabby Sidibe hitting a split off a pole at Magic City
Yes.. We here we are again. Falling hard. For him.
Here we go... Writing love lorn poetry over this man.
Again and again. Like a teenager wondering what your last name sounds like with his.
We get sick at the thought of not speaking to him.
Wondering how his day is. And what he's doing.
What kind of underwear he has one.
What it feels like to slip your tongue around his manhood....
If his cologne smells like sex.
Here we are jonesing for the man.
But she is too....
He used to be so interested.....
Hanging on your every word...
He calls you at 10 pm and calls her at 10:39.
You text him at 7 and get no response till Midnight
because he's texting her back....engrossed...in depth
Afterthought you are...
You are writing your names with his on scraps of paper.
She's tattooing his name on his heart .
And you don't stand a chance.
You try and ignore it.
Surely I'm so bad and I'm so fly bitches can't stand a chance.
Oh I got him. I got this.
No you don't .
You say you love his favorite group. She's got one up on you with tickets to the concert .
You cook his favorite meal...she's growing and planting seeds in his garden.
He's plucking you..like a weed.
He wants to fuck you...and keep it moving.
All you are is hole... bodily embodiment of a place to release.
You are here. So far away...
He is there. And she's there too....
What you thought was coincidence wasn't.
No matter how much you tried to shove it down your deep, dark hole in your heart.
You try to share....bits and pieces...overshare to overstand...
He picks and chooses ..
You self inflict the blame
Because she fits....
Lock and key in his heart.
But you don't
Like picking locks with a bobby pin
In a world of round holes...
You never win...
(PS: Thanks to my new FB Group for inspiring this poem....)