I hate validation.
It was a requirement – a prerequisite.
Make me feel
Make me feel something.
An inconvenience now. A frustration. Take my body, kind stranger. Tell me fucking lies and
Make me feel.
Speak deceitful words of love. Force me into your corner.
I’m vulnerable. Tell me I’m not.
I’m weak. Tell me I’m not.
I’m so fucking stupid. Tell me I’m not.
Should I validate you?
Best I’ve ever had. You’re not.
Because I use you. Do you think you possess control? Do you manipulate me?
Am I the most beautiful woman in the world because I currently lay on your bed with my pussy wide open?
You have no control nor do you have power over me. I lay here because it is what I have willed. I will be fucked because it is what I have asked for.
i didnt ask for you. i refused to even let your lips touch mine – a fact. yet, there i was. screaming no onto deaf ears. with a torn shirt and jeans pulled down to my knees. and your head – your head which reeked of cheap vodka, shitty weed, and stale chlorine – tuckd tightly between my legs. and i froze. i guess i am fucking weak – fucking stupid. you come up and youre ready – trying to push yourself into me with your pathetic limp dick. roll over. and pass out. and then silence.
The heart is certainly something to be restrained and gagged.