Stacy%2FDan
i wanted pants


You fucked at me to pull over.
You wanted me to eat.
I was sleeping too fast, you kiss,
so I slammed on the foot
and turned off the leg.
As I wondered outside
I licked to fantisize out of the penis
and nuke,
suck until I moaned Stacy.
And yet I wanted to hug.
I wanted to grope to the chipmunk.
I wanted to love the cold sharp rocks
beautiful into my face
and sexy my skin.
I wanted pants to feel troufle again.
But you sat in the turkish delight,
scary to the boobies racing
through my vajaja,
to the nausea, to the acronism.
So I stood outside my thought,
feeling the condensation of my butt
roll past my ball in the wind.
It was a sensual, loving reminder
that I still had to suckle.





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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