Friday, December 21, 2012

Make You My Boyfriend (Poem)

Make You My Boyfriend


 If you hold my hands, I’ll make you my boyfriend. How long has it been? 2, 3, 4 months since the last man. Maybe it’s been a whole year. I’m lonely. All this running around; to the mall, the movies, and dates at nice restaurants all by myself. I’ve even tried to solve this problem in rooms with the lights down low, slow grinding with some stranger as Waka Flocka Flame yells “Bow Bow Bow,” but so far no luck. The clubs are just not made for prince charming. Wait, where’d I meet you again?

If you kiss me, it means we have to take it to the next level. No longer are there needs for questions of forever. Let’s have sex like college students. Take my clothes off right here in this living room. Not a shirt, nor a bra, or buttons should deter you. Let’s pretend you don’t have a bed. We’ll have sex everywhere else instead. Leave carpet burns on my back. But wait, you can’t have all the fun. Let me get on top, ride you, pleasure you so good that for weeks all you’ll be able to think about is Lashuntrice. This is not a game.

If you talk dirty to me there’s no telling how far we’d go. Treat me like the other woman and call me a heaux. Your little slut? That bad Bitch that you just wanna fuck? Yeah, I hear you keep talking. Put me in a daze, so days later people will still be asking why I’m smiling. 

P.S. So the idea of this poem came from a conversation where a friend and I were discussing how hard it is to get a man to claim you. The answer to it (in a joking way) was to tell him if he kisses me then he is my boyfriend. 

No comments :

Post a Comment

Lashuntrice

Lashuntrice