Liars

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"Do you think you'll write about me? "
We're both in her bed
The tv a few feet away
Its on But I can't see it without my glasses
She doesn't notice
With her head in my lap
my knuckles gently tugging at her hair
Both our legs are bare
But hers have these pink garters
She said something about wishing I ripped them off
I told her it was too late now
Seconds go by
Stretching into a long
Uncomfortable silence
"No,
I don't think I will"
Now she's gone
And she said she'd never leave me
I guess we're both fucking liars now

Some of my poetry Donde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora