doesn't matter
if I'm straight or I'm gay
cuz you don't give a fuck
about me, either way

doesn't matter
if i swallow when i blow
cuz out of your mind,
i am, when you go

doesn't matter
if i bend, spread, far as possible
cuz wiped, your hands clean of me
once your stain released, washable

no "ancient chinese secret, huh?",
needed.
"calgon didn't take me away",
the gods repeated..

you just left, walked out that door
cuz you can't bring home to momma
a "found and almost fisted once"
faggot friend or slightly semi-honorable ex-whore

one who ate all your shit,
wanted more
ate, as in took,
it wasn't that kind of adore

cuz that's plain wrong,
no matter how you slice it
but i guess, "to each his own"
for the rock, and the roll of the dice, it

took a chance on you
you shot your chute in me
not literally, but figuratively
and now inside you're all i see..

the first to feel, is the one to flee
or so they say, but with you and me
it was the reverse, a curse?
that shit dispelled now, and over

cuz this ain't the end
i have yet to find out,
you, a shower or grower?

i have yet to be grabbed
by the neck, deeply kissed
with the force of a fire,
one that burns, deeply missed

you upon me,
you not wanting to see
that this shit is real
tender, rough, magic found,
"even steven", even keel

torn, us both
but together, quite sweet
so I'll take it,
however you want it,
like it, in the sheets

don't need the nasty
as much as i just, damn, need you
but a little verbal abuse,
wouldn't hurt,
as in call me your fuck boy,
your bitch, when we screw

then love me more after
and treat me right,
cuz I'm yours

and i will, actually
get down on my knees
not only to give you blow jobs
but to properly spic-n-span
the floors

so, take me home to momma,
you won't
but that doesn't mean
that there's doom in the don't...

ask or tell,
it's all fine with me
I'm good, "less please", the labels

and even better without them,

hopefully one day,
you'll see...


bowen hart roselli
7 september 2020
ringwald love