got a man. kept a man. wanna give him away. he aint free. comes will excess and baggage and bills of his own. need to trade his flat, dimpled ass for something new. am I new, though? am I worth changing in my change?
still so lovely I love the likeness I see in the mirror but this is the first I have written in almost a year. I was a love machine, spitting dates and doom at anyone fuckable, though not fucked by me but I like to keep that option open. desperation parts the thighs like passion never could.
so I am strangles and struggling against the past. a man child keeps buzzing in my ear, propping up his ugly kid and uglier wife. I want him because I shouldn't. he wants me because he couldn't. as if the moral landscape was more than a green screen in a movie about the holy grail complete with a coupla coconuts.
so I am back. watch me dance. more money and more beauty equal more something something.