Lonely, too.

They want to fuck me, they want to bend me over and fuck me.

They want me on my knees in the dark,

splayed legged in the passenger seat of a car,

bouncing to the beat while I'm riding their D.


They want my Soft skin and curves-no less then second base.

Prefer to Take it straight over to their place- with the whiskey.

Get lost in the moment,

Forget the jibba jabba...they want to get fuckin' frisky.

　

They Say I'm pretty, “a dime”

so they put their arm around me, they hold out hands to brush me

give me bed room eyes with long stares, tell me they're lonely.

They're in need of a good woman's body.


8 pm, 10 pm, 2 am Service calls they would make for my pussy.

They'll be my benefits, my in and out drive through, my

hard fuck, my soft fuck, my long fuck.

　

Realistically: my mediocre fuck, my this went too far fuck,

my feelings not involved fuck. My boy not yet a man fuck.


So when my right hand cramps, I don't reach for the phone.

I pause an imagine, a man who gives a fuck.

About not only how I like it,

but where my favorite place is.

Who not only takes his time,

but tells me he needs me,

couldn't imagine life without me.

Looks me in the eyes, while he rides me.

Whispers in my ear “Let's make a baby.”


Who's sexy: not only because of his body,

but because he promised he'd build a house for me,

because he wants to travel the world with me,

and brings spirit through living philosophy.

　

Stop: Fantasy. Inconceivable in this sea of:

compliments, look me up and down stares, late night invitations to meet somewhere.

I make space in my bed, sleep on the edge,

as if I'm subconsciously waiting.

For some one worth the while.



I toss and turn in my own ideology.