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the boy your mother warned you about

hand high on your thigh, cigarette in his mouth...

By TrævonPublished 4 years ago 1 min read
1

he is,

the boy that your mother warned you about

hand high on your thigh, cigarette in his mouth,

he pours you more liquor, he's such a good kisser

his lips start on yours then begin to move south

you're nervous, you quiver, he undoes your zipper

you're learning, skin burning and squirming about

your veins are on fire, your parents were liars

blood filled with desire and it's all pouring out,

you're earning your stripes, no turning around

he's a frequent flier, just making his rounds,

he pulls out a swisher, his black lighter flickers

you're coughing and gasping for air as he sniggers

your mind overflows and explodes and gets bigger

your body's a gun with his tongue on the trigger,

your spirits they slither, so kindred, to the backseat

time unfolds as you spread yourselves out

his fingers move quick and explore different routes

you're searching for words in the corners of your mouth

but all you find is teeth and his tongue slipping out,

probing body galaxies, moles like planets and freckle stars

solar systems aged near twenty years inside of jars

hot, heavy, hard, kisses like art in the back of his car

painting sin on saintly skin until the pure canvass is charred.

halo lost, broken petal, drive it fast, press the medal

dirty lips on virgin hips you lose the youth in which you revel

chip a tooth on bitter truths, it's true he's on another level

tie your noose, choose to lose, when you’re dealing with the devil.

you breathe him in, you feel his skin

your hear is voice, you see his grin

his unkept bangs all in your face

his forked tongue kisses laced with sin

heart starts to race, you'll let him win

you'll go down this road again

you fall from grace, you let him win

you'll go down this road again

you breathe him in, you feel his skin

more than lovers, less than friends

his unkept bangs all in your face

you raise the stakes, you go all in, heart

racing and chasing your youth

you fall from grace, you let him win, fingers

lacing, evading the truth

you fall from grace and let him in.

heartbreak
1

About the Creator

Trævon

It’s Britney, bitch.

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