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





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.