She was going to be my favorite bad habit.
I met her and she would drink like a wino, curse like a sailor, then fuck like a pornstar.
I never begged for her on the contrary I’d resist her, enlighten her, not take advantage of what many would see as a prime opportunity.
Her ass is fat and no it wasn’t injected it was all her. It clapped as she gave me constant rounds of applause for every performance which led her pleas of encores and wobbly standing ovations.
We would discuss her psyche and where she found pain and how death led her to a different level of appreciation. She observed,as I handled her eyes not to swoon her physically but to view her souls perseverance. Acknowledgement of her path will lead to similar destruction, if she holds onto the grenade, that will inevitably destroy her like it did to those before her.
She never felt love so I was like poison to her veins, she ingested me and didn’t realize i was her antidote. She closed her heart, as it had so many trespassing criminals, so of course I fit the description like bad police leads. She couldn’t tell the difference between the two. Then when we fell quiet, she would watch the stars with me as we discussed world’s outside of what we knew to be true.
Nighttime rendezvous more so to introspective words than penetrative soundtracks. Now don’t get me wrong, id wear her ass out so she would leave mentally stretched, emotionally aware, and physically flexible.
Other times I scared her at how unafraid of her I was. She valued intimidating gestures but for me life had kicked me far to many times that jeers and threats no longer seem to phase me.
I looked back once to ask her for help, she ultimately let me know that I was unworthy or she was unwilling, still that part was unclear. It’s okay I never lent my words, time, or Grace for reciprocity but because we all need it in the unlikely places.
Since then I cared not to look again…