Thursday, August 16, 2012

Pretend Friends with Benefits

Difficult man complicates our relatively simplistic relationship

Making old wounds bleed over his insecurities

Strumming my strings with his fingers

As he plays Geppeto and casts me into the role of Pinocchio

But I love myself too much to play his puppet

Toying with my emotions as he quickly comes in and out of me and my life

How could the best 30 and worst 30 minutes of my life overlap in perfect harmony?

Trapped in a bittersweet symphony of my desires and the battered reality of my truth

He calls me only when it’s convenient

As my calls mysteriously drop from his phone

And he mysteriously drops me from his day

Knowing that I’m not even a priority, but still I stay

Lost in lust

I trust that he would never do the one thing that matters most…

Hurt me

And no matter how hard I tried

I still found his heart tangled up in mine

And damn if we aren’t both lost in a complicated web of lies

His scent causes my heart to skip a beat

I swear when he touches me I die

And those sexy lips and soft kisses gives me life

But only for one or two nights

You see

Because as certain as I’m sure I’m a nice piece of ass

She’s probably the one he’s making his wife

So even though he just maybe kinda likes me

I think I love him

And if I loved myself I wouldn’t be sitting here writing this

Recounting one of my most memorable trysts

Wanting to believe I’m so much more

But secretly knowing im just a pretend friend with benefits

Tired of being stringed along at the bottom of his list

And getting my gift snatched out from my arms and thrown away

Like newborn babies who wanted nothing more than a chance at life

So I keep my distance

And now I blow sour kisses from across cold, green, distant plains

Because I just can’t stand to be near him

I can no longer stomach my lust and distrust

To see his face next to her memory

And nothing next to mine but a memory of us

Drowning in a sea of emptiness

Looking for someone to throw me a lifeline

And rescue me from myself and the life of mine

And maybe just maybe

Teach me how to be loved and how to love again

But I’m over married men and guys with girlfriends

Who insist on cheating and lying their way into my precious underpants

Tickling my sweet spot

With the tips of their tongues

As if we don’t speak the same fuckin language

And I don’t already understand exactly what this is

And to think…if I were the sensitive type I’d probably cry

Tears of disappointment and pain

So that just in case you didn’t hear me

You could see how bad it hurts

Knowing you’ll say and do anything to fuck me…over.