Tell me that my giblet dick that doesn’t fit right.
And that you cannot be with a man who cannot gratify your desires.
Tell me that my teeth are crooked and aren’t not ivory enough for you.
And that you cannot be seen with me any longer.
Tell me that my coarse cackle gives you headaches.
And that you think my kind of humor died with whoopee cushions.
Tell me my sociopathic viewpoints and deranged attitude bring you down.
And that I don’t have what it takes to peel you from your tiresome skillet of pessimism.
Tell me that I’m boring, self absorbed and selfish.
And that your girlfriends think I’m ridiculous, and your male friends, dangerous.
Tell me that my breath smells like fifteen hundred naked fat ladies doing pilates in a subway bath stall.
And that you’d rather kiss a bee’s hive.
I cannot buy you lunch if you only order ice water.
I cannot open the automatic doors for you.
So
Tell me that I make you insecure.
Tell me there is someone else.
Tell me that I’m an asshole.
Tell me that you hate me.
Tell me that I would be better off dead.
Tell me anything.
Anything at all.
And anything but this.
|
Submission Name: "..................."
