You closed your eyes:
I didn’t care
you were pretending I was someone else.
I kept mine open:
and prayed to the ceiling tiles
that you wouldn’t fall in love with me;
I wondered
which of us
was really being fucked.
You closed your eyes:
I didn’t care
you were pretending I was someone else.
I kept mine open:
and prayed to the ceiling tiles
that you wouldn’t fall in love with me;
I wondered
which of us
was really being fucked.
Write Handed Poetry 
I relate to this on so many levels
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❤
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This right here… I don’t if I had to answer this question, I would.. I would say it’s the both of them..
I would divulge into why it’s more of a paradoxical screw up but I think you already know that.
Beautiful, I love.
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Thank you. ❤ ❤
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*I don’t know
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