Pricky Throned Men

Fresh Off The Presses

Lately, dating has been kicking my ass. I’m not having any luck finding someone who wants the same things I do. It’s been so frustrating, so I’m giving up on dating for a while. Until someone sees the same things that I want, I don’t want to try anymore. I wrote a poem that has some of those view points. Let me know if it’s good or not.

Prickly Throned Men

I fucked up the day I believed
believed me needing you needing me more
sunk into a hole deeper than any grave I’ve dug for ex’s
lowering further to the ground singing swan songs.

Bingeing on Breaking Bad,
that will occupy my mind,
Having PBR’s to inhale
sure will ease the pain.

Somehow interested in grey metal studded Prada lofters,
instead of condoms, twirling into his apartment
as giggy school girls skip with skirts thigh high
up in the air, lost in the school day wasted.

Wasted day to follow obliterated nights
I wake up awfully dirty again, hitting replay on Swan Song #5
reminded to watch out for the thrones,
too beautifully pricked up to see my damned scars.

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