- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Fucked Up Judgment
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I tell her and she says, I told you so. I say, I heard you but never trusted your fucked up judgment. Put him behind you, she says. Well, the sting of not being able and the memories of black eyes and busted lips and the don’t even fucking speak to me and when I ride in trucks I’m not scared but I always remember how I lost my pair of glasses I got free from the Shriner’s club. I need you. Stay with me. I bury my head in sand and peek out from time to time. Sex makes me blush but he says finally, something you are good at. Love makes me feel thirteen. Did you write 50 Shades? Fuck no, I’m vanilla and a virgin. I wrote Justine.
