She said, "kiss me." she whispered it and delivered it through telephone wires while i was trying to sleep and said, "why didn't you ever kiss me?"
i just calmly replied, "because i know you'd just cry harder every night and miss me." Because if i told her the brutal truth, i'd break that already torn apart heart. i'd shatter those diluted, hopeful, impractical thoughts of how she viewed this tragic hopeless love clot.
she would always say, "i wanted to kiss you so badly." But did you really?
do you still want to kiss me when you're in the arms of your permanent dire lover? the one you curse under your breath and deem an insincere awful liar? the one you said you hated when we were in bed together? the one that made you pathetically weep hard enough to tell me you were never going back to him ever?
i still wonder. i haven't cried in a while but i really do still wonder. wonder if she thinks of me when his worthless mouth fails to arouse her. if she discreetly fantasized about me when his flimsy dick can't get any harder. if she wishes it were my smooth naked breast her head was resting on. if she lays in her bed and cried into the pillows i once slept on.
she used to say "kiss me"
she used to whisper it and diligently deliver it through telephone wires and say "why didn't you ever kiss me?" and still, i just calmly reply, "because i know you'd just cry harder every night and miss me."
