trust me dear

by g

  1. payment

 

i pay for my friends with respect and trust

i pay for my vulnerability with a mask on

the face of shyness that yells when it needs

 

but if you think that a banker will fuck you

harder than i will you are bat-shit crazy

 

but never trust the narrator dear

never trust the narrator

 

thats for the others my love

 

it is as though i am comparing

leaves to flowers;

fucking evil grass

 

but really. opposites attract to complete each

other

 

*

 

1117: vulnerability

 

I am no longer a virgin yup

that’s why I’m so happy

I’m not manic

I’m not crazy

I’m not schizophrenic

I’m not a virgin anymore

that’s why I’m happy haha

that’s why I’m so so happy

now tell me what this poem means!

 

not you dear. not you.


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