of all the damn gin joints...

tw// s*x*al assault


because sometimes i really do want to know what its like to f***ing be you. the flag is half-mast, but that doesn't matter anymore. walk past it. walk past it... burn it to the ground, watch the flames eat it up and have burnt ashes for leftovers. it's been so long it shouldn't even matter anymore. but do you remember the way i gutted out my own heart and cannibalized my soul just to have what we had? paid my respects to the comfort of my indifferences and drove off in the hopes of never looking back. 

why are you driving me back to where i started? you got me out of here, dug me out of the soil like stolen ethnic artifacts. put me on display in front of fluorescent lightbulbs hot enough to melt my eyeballs out of my eye sockets. inside a little glass case, posed to perfection and carefully curated to exhaust the most appeal amidst the most appealing. the plate on my exhibit is scratched and the text is barely legible. it's everything you ever wanted until it isn't. f*** looking after the things you worked hard to covet. let them f***ing rot. because like the greedy english colonizers some people will just always want more than they already have. hold the world in the palm of your hands, maybe have its clouds wrapped around your pathetic little fingers. tell me when it's time to rain with tears and when it's time to put on a pretty smile for you. so docile and easily impressed, blissfully convinced passion is more than enough. 

"you only hold me up like this... cause you don't know who i really am." i always knew i was just another girl on your hit list. another one to cross out when the fun's over, another one for the books (of friendly mistakes and amicable regrets.)  snooze past getting to know each other and fast forward to getting me in between your legs and on top of your sheets. f*** me even when the way i shake my head says otherwise. we only get along when my mouth's below your belt and when your hands are tugging at my scalp. we have nothing in common except for the scent of me embedded in the threads of your blankets. i speak through moans and you respond in gestures that hit just right.

pretend it never mattered, pretend i sent meteors to crash down your ego just to watch it fall apart. pretend i didn't sell my peace to fund your comfort.

...ate at the wood of my ship until we both had nowhere else to stay. sank to the bottom of the ocean, but you still held onto the void that i cling onto so i could survive. your selfishness was a f***ing termite to my psyche.

because i thought that my hair sprawled across your pillow meant something else. why the emphasis on lasciviousness and not on the way we held each other like it was our last night on earth? repeat. repeat. repeat. surely there was more to it than nights spent letting lovebites bloom across your chest. maybe i need to hear you moan out my name again. maybe i need another dose of the thrill you can only ever acquire from hidden rendezvous, always so down, dirty, and breathless. easy pleasure from a cheap sensation under covers. i was busy stitching my heart next to yours. i didn't know you were undoing the threads behind my back and preparing for the next body you'd bring home. maybe i just want redemption for all the times you kicked me to the curb like i never meant a thing to you. maybe i just want redemption for the fact that my "no"s escaped somewhere through the air; how my hesitation and fatigue were not enough to stop your hand from snaking through my thighs.

feeling so dumbfounded, bloody, and beaten. you only like it when the checkerboard flag waves in the air, you only like the chase and the stances we pull at the starting line. you don't have the guts to stick it out until the end of the race. f***ing coward. keep signing up for the next few matches, and i'll watch you burn yourself out quicker than the last time. every. single. time. you're only good when you begin, but when tomorrow comes you'll want out again. love is a commodity you get for free, but you never get enough of it anyway. i hope it f***ing runs out on you. can't face myself, can't understand why i look for you in faces that don't even resemble you. can't understand why i still want something that never wanted me, why i still want something that violated me and ripped me to pieces. you never f***ing loved me. i was just a placeholder. like everyone else you romantically associate with. you spend too much time running in circles instead of working on yourself. i don't know whether to pity you or regret that i spent so much time on nothing.