Museum date???? Coffee shop date???? Art gallery date???? Walk in the park date???? Late night walk date???? Nap time date???
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anyone else fucking LOVE BEING IN BED???
bitch im in bed right now!! how did you know!!
I can’t believe that the government is watching our every move and yet they refused to warn me that I was about to walk into a Panera where THREE of my exes were working together.
Hey, the government? You could’ve texted me. You’ve got GPS; they’ve got their jobs on Facebook; I know you know we dated. You knew, you have the technology, and you just let me walk in there, make eye contact with them, and walk out without ordering anything. Fuck you. I hate this country.
I’ve got a heartbeat like a pendulum, it swings so fast you’ll never know what hit you. You’ll never break my heart. It’ll break you.
Writing About Him
The first time he forced my legs apart like marionette strings
in the hands of a misguided puppeteer,
He asked, “You gonna write about me?”
The second time, with his fingers making bruises on my neck,
he asked the same question.
So the third time, when I was beaten down like a piano beyond repair,
all broken keys and a slowly dwindling melody,
I wrote about him.
I wrote, “I beatbox with ghosts. I got a handful of knives in my back
from all the times people like you stabbed me
when I was just starting to turn around.”
I wrote, “Land of the free, home of the brave, but you’re just the coward
who didn’t even bother to ask my name. I gotta heartbeat
like a pendulum, it swings so fast you’ll never even know what hit you.
You’ll never break my heart. It’ll break you.”
When he apologized over texts a few weeks later
then forced another woman the way he forced me,
I started slipping the poems under his front door, beneath the windshield wiper
of his car, inside the sleeve of his pillowcase.
He asked me if I would write about him.
So I did.
I wrote about him to anybody who would listen,
until my final poem ended up in the hands of the police.
Then I pulled all the knives out of my back
and severed all the blame I’d aimed at myself for so long.
- Meggie Royer
let’s stop seeing sex as the biggest thing you can do to show someone you love them
Finally someone
