Bored with You

I’m not “bored” with you.

I’m not even bored by you.

But are you bold or blindly coy?  

I sit here wallowing in the wanton poetry of the dreary,

Waking in wet dreams that leave me hollow and wanting

To lick a loving pussy.

Just come back to me, play with me

and join me in a mediocrity that shatters the sunset,

Or let me slap you around and bit your lips.

But, know that I never mean anything I say twice,

And I will die a horrible death

at my own hand.

Come share the sty with me and my…

Oh baby me, oh me oh my.

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Published by: jarredkeaneyeah

I’m not sure if I’m a Comedian, a Poet, a Novelist, or a Failure. Odds are it’s a blur of all. I put spasms of emotion here, I put my work here, I put my hope here. I write about music for magazines and fiction for posterity. I'm not good at relationship and I like crying because I’m a real man. I’ll learn how to build and fire a rifle soon to prove that.

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