no guy would believe me if i say that i'm one of the most romantic, sensitive people they'll ever meet. maybe it's because they've seen up my skirt, maybe it's because they've seen people spread my legs.
the guys never really do understand. they wear tiny pink pieces of my pussy on their sleeve and think that they own my virginity. they parade my name around the football team like it's a notch on their belt. only for two hours though, because they wanna be committed to a girl that lives two hours away. guys don't understand, not really, because they're texting me that i should get fucked in the skirt and knee-highs that i'm wearing, even though his girlfriend is sitting on the bus right next to him. guys don't understand, not when they're telling me they're in love with me at 3am, and the next day are ignoring my pleas for intimacy that goes beyond begging for him to show me his dick, just once tonight. guys don't understand, not when they tell me they wanna commit to me, that i should break up with my boyfriend for him, only for him to end up being the inspiration behind the song "dead to me" by kali uchis. (you think you got problems with me? baby, i don't even think about you. you're mad at everything i do, but what're you up to? i haven't a clue, because you're dead to me. why can't i be dead to you?) guys just don't understand, not when they undress me with their eyes at school, then a few hours later not even look at me in the eyes when i thank them for lending me their blanket. guys don't understand, not when they ask to watch me use my vibrator, then the next day post a polaroid of him with his girlfriend that i didn't know he had.
i want to be in love. this isn't how you find love. but how can i complain? i spread my legs for them, i can't blame them for not wanting the key to my oh so delicate heart, because they already have access to another coveted spot inside me.
i'm tired of being lusted after and not loved, i'm fucking exhausted of being constantly desired but never cared for. but who would believe that? i'm the one that opened myself up in the first place, because a warm body next to mine makes me feel comfortable. boys can't think for themselves, they let the head between their legs do that for them. i can't be upset that they don't respect me, because i don't respect myself.
no one would believe a slut who cried wolf, right?
// long time no see, guys.
hope you're doing alright.
