yeh,
pouting, pointless, lipless beauty
with those big, pretty eyes
green, blue,
doesn’t matter
there’s nothing particular
nothing memorable,
about the likes of you
you, who
make them go weak at the
knees
making them abuse themselves at
night
gasping for air
clutching hollow bones
whilst thoughts of your body
explode in their
feeble, sweaty little heads
but to me,
you reek of boredom
complete and utter
cheapened
boredom,
yeh
Categories: Poetry