Inga
i wanted Penis


You Kissed at me to pull over.
You wanted me to Touch.
I was Doing too fast, you Lick,
so I slammed on the bug
and turned off the dug.
As I humped outside
I dided to ride out of the IT
and rode,
nestled until I swallowed ALORA.
And yet I wanted to read.
I wanted to did to the balls.
I wanted to rubbed the cold sharp rocks
long into my face
and huge my skin.
I wanted Penis to feel weiner again.
But you sat in the hugs,
enormous to the humps racing
through my finger,
to the nausea, to the orgaism.
So I stood outside my box,
feeling the condensation of my yum
roll past my condom in the wind.
It was a hard, fast reminder
that I still had to grinded.





i wanted pain


You screamed at me to pull over.
You wanted me to stop.
I was driving too fast, you said,
so I slammed on the brakes
and turned off the engine.
As I stepped outside
I wanted to jump out of the car
and run,
run until I lost myself.
And yet I wanted to fall.
I wanted to fall to the ground.
I wanted to feel the cold sharp rocks
cutting into my face
and slicing my skin.
I wanted pain to feel good again.
But you sat in the car,
clueless to the thoughts racing
through my mind,
to the nausea, to the surrealism.
So I stood outside my car,
feeling the condensation of my breath
roll past my face in the wind.
It was a constant, nagging reminder
that I still had to breathe.

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