Bitches don’t know shit about my photoshopping skills. I like to think Goya would be proud.
Suicide Jumper Talked Down by her Reluctant Boyfriend
Expectation: Do all my homework for the next week at an all night study session
Reality: Spend six hours straight writing a poem that no one will ever read.
Here you go, no one.
While I bow my head and beckon you inside,
I tease a thought.
“You’re so lovely on that ledge,
bet you’d be a beauty on the sidewalk”
& as you start fumbling your footing
my late nights resign to days with you asleep and me adjacent.
Two stagnant feet a yard away.
The times I tried to tip the tables,
I got naught but broken vases.
I swept the puddles & red petals
under the bed in your apartment.
But your candid coyness can’t uncover
the restless love I’ve laid to waste;
because every tether to a lover
is another I can’t break
Hay dos tipos de mujeres, diosas y porteras. (There are two types of women, goddesses and doormats)
Pablo Picasso
