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I Ain’t Sayin’ Sorry for Nuthin’
It’s been 6 years since I’ve had a girlfriend.
I fuck randoms and watch couples like they’re wild animals.
Put my phone number on the timeline: 1-408-941-5560 desperate, like carving it into the bathroom wall.
I cheated three times on her but someone send this poem to Rafi.
Someone send this poem to @bunrogers.
If I tell my parents I’m bisexual they’ll be unfazed so I just don’t talk about it
People think I’m friendly who know me in person.
People think I’m kinky by the sight of me but I’m all vanilla.
People think I’m honest because I have an honest face, halo effect I guess.
There’s a difference between telling the truth all the time being honest.
I know there’s a difference between right and wrong but I don’t know what it is yet.
“Why do I feel like I’m third wheeling with my own girlfriend?
If you want you should just fuck each other already.”
My best friend mumbles denials of the dreams he was having.
Why mutter it?
Cancers love unconditionally, so why as a compatible Virgo did I cheat three times?
To be in love is to be possessed and witnessed yr wilderness.
II. Ex-Best Friend
Think of the people I’ve hurt
make a list of them as both
punishment and entertainment.
Happy Amnesiac.
I’m surprised that I can share myself with anyone.
Savage Ckhild is Little Tank is Atticus Davis is a 28-year-old poet and writer from California and author of the books Mad Dog/Lost Puppy, ADULTHOODS, Your Aeon, and Dumb Stuttering Free. He edits the lit mag Heavy Athletics. Follow him on Twitter here and on Telegram here.