Peek into the past

Craving mustard like a cliche,
downing vodka like it’s bleach,
praying it will purify my insides
anything I’ve breached.

I hear her gasping as he tastes her,
deep between her thighs,
does she hold his hands as tightly?
Roll her hips and then her eyes?

I practice where I’m lying on a mattress,
colder, smaller, with a blanket that is barely there
because I gave you mine- self-sacrificing tendencies,
child’s trauma marks my mind.

You two need it more than I do,
your bed’s bigger –

bet you’re in her,

but I beg instead for you to quit the act.
I don’t mean to be rude, but I can hear you kiss…
The walls are so thin, and they’re caving from this.

But even if she does the things that I don’t
there’s nothing I won’t do,
allow me to get comfortable
to share myself with you.
But I wonder, do I really want…
Yes, I think I do.
I imagine days pass faster
when I’m coming home to you.
You want someone to love you,
to treat you like a boy,
so let me be the girl to do it,
fill our life with joy…

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