Jennifer Machin

My pussy is power and that scares you, but I won’t apologize for it.

Show me sweet. Show me crazy. Show me you.

You make me believe in good again, the kind of good a kid feels on Christmas day.

You were my personal cranberry vodka; I didn’t know how tipsy I could get until I had too much of you. 

It’s me opening the legs of my soul and hoping you’ll make love, not f*ck me over.