For me, it doesn’t make sense to still entertain the same bullshit from boys, I once did, when my chest was freshly stung by bees.
I have learned that, the holding of a hand means nothing but two different fingerprints in really close proximity.
I no longer fall for boys who selectively listen to the words that escape my mouth before I can even taste them… and after a few fights and lonely nights, the same words escaping their breath and echoing in my bad decisions.
And if I could get any financial incentive for every Penis Being on this earth that has sent me a crappy, cold but warm seeming “I miss you” text, on every single social network I have been on, since I owned a phone, I would have accumulated enough funds to secure a three course meal for every hungry child, in my mother land, on my most loneliest night.
It is through my sisters, that I have learned that a happy bed, doesn’t make up for a happy home.
It’s crazy how the pursuit of one* organ can completely shut down all other bodily functions…
Before you know it.
You cannot eat.
You cannot breathe.
You cannot sleep.
You cannot think.
And without these,
You cannot be yourself.
And that girl you vowed to never be.
You take every living fibre of her DNA…
You can no longer tell the two of you apart.
and he’s just happy, that it is a twisted form of a threesome.