I think about how I fell in love with you, and I can’t help but wonder, why couldn’t you fall in love with me too? What is it that I have that makes men so incapable of liking me for more than just a good time?
Is it some kind of enchantment I am under, that all men I do not want will fall in love with me and those of who I show interest towards will back fire and make me miserable?
Well whoever is having fun with my pheromones and feelings and all that conveys to, I applaud you, I kneel down in respect as I beg you to take me back to who I was.
I don’t mind getting heart broken, it happens, cheated on, it happens. Wait, is this because I use men for their love and then dispose of them? Is this some kind of malignant karma that I am ought to live for the rest of my life with for being a classic bitch?
I will make them fall in love with me, I will be sweet, and I will be gentle. When they give me their hearts and souls, that is on songs, lyrics, poems, etc ,.. I throw them out. It’s almost as if I used them for their feelings so I can have something to write about.
But what happens when you encounter a macho man, a heart breaker, a misogynistic, and a narcissist. He is the devil in disguise—your biggest temptation. What happens when you meet this creature who you can’t help but have sexual tension towards? Are you supposed to walk away? If I was, I pray the lord my soul to forgive, but I stayed, flirting with the devil himself.
We’ll talk, and tease—breezy. He touches my shoulder every time laying his hand longer. Eye contact made, devious smiles shared. We’re both a tease.
He does not go back to my apartment, I don’t go back to his. We do not pretend that what we want is to make sweet love. Lust is in our eyes, dignity is lost.
The fucking starts in the sinks, it ends in the stalls. My body burns, it’s hell embodying me. I’m sorry sweet angles of mine.
I put my heels back on, not even bother to look for my underwear. I stop a cab, and go straight home.
The next day I feel alleviated from both my sins and sexual desire towards him.
Horns and tail come to me, small talk and we’re back at the same place this all started and ended, and will begin and end again; The bathroom.
Our sweet encounters of lust, makes this sin bittersweet. Do you want me for me? Or do you want me because I’m easy? So much for keeping it classy. I’m sorry loyal Jesus of mine.
A month goes by, the warm distant fucking travels to the bed. I’m falling in love with being your dirty secret. You are becoming more gentle, could it be? That you could be falling for me?
As soon as love touched my body, and you were naked on top of me, you flew out, no clothes, no bag, no clock.
I look back as I fell in love with a sinner, and a sinner I became, and can’t help but wonder, why couldn’t heaven just let it be it?