When You Fuck A Fuckboy

When You Fuck A Fuckboy
Brooke Cagle

You tell yourself he is just another boy
Not any different from the many
you have kissed in the club

You tell yourself he’s not your type
He will be nothing more than a one night stand

You re-read all his texts
Leading up to that fateful night
And you realize he did not care about you at all
Every shred of concern he showed was just
to continue the conversation
That paved the way to your body

You play back the conversation over drinks, trying
To pinpoint any hint of boredom,
Maybe he didn’t think you were funny
Maybe he wasn’t even listening

You try to think back, sieving through
your drunk, patchy memory
If you did a good job

You remember how the whole room was
brightly lit, giving no chances
to the food belly from lunch
Exposing every stretch mark, every scar
Every hint of your resistance

You tell yourself it’s just sex but then again
You overthink his good morning text, wondering if
He wants you for more than your body, or if
He was just being nice
You try to believe this might all be a compliment
to your attractiveness but
You realize you aren’t that attractive at all, and
You wonder if your personality might be
Even more boring than your body

You think maybe there is hope
Fuckboys all settle down eventually, but then
You don’t want to waste his time
He doesn’t care
He only wants your nights

You tell yourself he doesn’t deserve you

You promise yourself you
Would kiss 5 boys in the club tonight
You will forget his existence and
You will be fine

2 AM in the club and
You kiss a fuckboy
You missed the signs yet again and
You tell yourself he is just another boy
It was just sex
You’re just worthy for your body
You’re just as fucked up as before Thought Catalog Logo Mark

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