Nail In her Coffin
To be frank she was a phase, something I thought I needed. Deep down it's all the same.
Please don't confuse what I'm saying.
I know the breed is not to blame. But once you attempt to enslave her soul or put her in a cage, a bitch may never be the same.
Fool trying to tame a tiger.
My mistakes take breath today. I realize I could have been kinder. Love or hate's set on a timer. So I compensate with brief though belittling, disgraceful, gut wrenching reminders.

Enough mushy stuff. It’s all about the sex. My saliva on her vagina, saturation at its best.
You see, I had her take a shower first.
Actually we took it together.
I had her bend over and touch her toes while I put that shower head to work. But I ain't doing all the work. She's not a selfish girl. She's intent on keeping me content with her mouth and tongue. A land I’ve never explored. The temple crumbles as a testament of what was. Prayers from passer bys. My coin still warm to the touch, thrown into a bedazzled donation plate.
And like a cherry on top, there's no question at all if she's the one. Cuz right off bat she was not that girl. Just a bed that had crossed paths with mine.

Then I put her down. I knew her. Think she told me her real name? I didn't care to ask. I knew her. No emotions or connections. Just me up inside that ass. Heavy breathing, harder gasps. She likes my hand around her throat, submitting. We're sweating. I was there, a shell. Did my mind think that I knew why I thought I was there? Best believe I know why I'm here. But I loved her looking like she's scared.
Like you used to.
I suppose I'll allow this penis to assert myself.
Like I used to.
Let it remind her why she's there. There were others. I should’ve been more prepared.

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