Pillow Talk

My girlfriend is out of town

So I don’t have anyone to pillow talk with

I thought to myself

There’s a poem for this.

I wish I had a bigger clit

It would help make sense of all of it

As it is right now, I have

The tightest pinkest sweetest pussy

In all of North America

And all I can think about

Is how I wish I had chest hair

To go with it.

I’m weird, I’ve been living in between

Decisions lately.

I want to be seen as a man,

But I love being female. I have

Made peace with her.

She is dope, like I said.

Also I love watching her get fucked

That’s how I see it, in my head

I’m standing right next to me

Watching her take it all in

Loving every second

God, what a pussy

I should be a porn star instead !

Nah, too much of a poet

I’d fill my pockets with stones

And cry myself an ocean

All the feelings I would have

If I fucked for a living,

Came for my homestead.

But anyway, here’s the truth

I want to be a man,

But it confuses me? I don’t understand

Men are gross

Women are amazing

I am privileged as I am–

Just not the way I want to be

I wish I could see the future

Know what will happen to me

But then, I’m sure I’d change my path

Go somewhere else entirely

I wish I could be in the middle

Where I firmly feel my feet

My gender is him but

She’s my sexuality

Maybe this is how I’m meant to be

Confused for eternity

I know that fucking doesn’t make me

Any sort of sex or gender

I know that being submissive doesn’t

Make me female, Force me under.

But boy, doesn’t it seem that way

When even the gays don’t feel ok

About bottoming, submitting

The thing about it I especially

Don’t understand

Is how hilariously toppy I am

With women’s hands in me

My girlfriend gets so mad

She’s says I’m a bossy bottom

I think the term is “power top”

I’m like–girl!

Shut up and peg me

When you get mad at me

It’s hot

2 thoughts on “Pillow Talk

    1. Better than James Baxter? Should I change it? I will. I’ve decided.

      But isn’t this changing too much? My insides feel like jelly. I need to start fresh with the music identity, anyway.

      You know the old saying; indecision killed the Becky.

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