Don’t go out

I babysit broken blonde bombshells and smoke a cigarette
with a marine. Easy come, easy go.

It’s obvious the man has never had a joint. You’re asleep on
the sidewalk, all curled up, fetal-like but sitting.


Nothing turns me on like short nails, a ‘who cares’ pony tail,
and flats.

Sometimes I like thick eyebrows.


I wear my beanie this way because you liked
it like this; this is how you taught, this is what
you prefer.

I went to bed with my phone in my pocket because
that’s poetic. No questions.

You have to find the gorgeous who love the homely;
no matter what you do, no one will call you comely.

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