Holes in his jeans

King of the bar scene

Thinks he knows everything

About me

Hair slicked back

Pockets sagging with cash

Thinks that’s what it takes

To please me

Callused knuckles gleaming

With blood of his enemies

Always on the hunt

For a good girl’s sanity


So let me get this straight…

I’m a mystery

Because I won’t let you pop my cherry

I’m boring

If I’m not spending time with you

And you’re thrilling

Because you come with big things

And everyone else wants a taste

But time for you to listen to me

I know better

Than to throw it all away

For a jacket made of leather


Tall and broad

Gives zero fucks about cops

Thinks it’s funny

To stalk me

Jameson on his breath

Shitty swag in his step

Thinks I’ll automatically

Let him get to know me

Always believing

That the wrong way is right


To him

Harassment is entertaining

To him

Being polite is exhausting

To him

He has it all figured out

Wins life’s wars

His gun is fully loaded

Shining and smoking

But his soul… is empty

And his love… means nothing

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