stream of conciousness:
back and forth, back and forth, fine motor functions fading, and it's not even nine o' clock; but there's a pressing obligation to be prime entertainment scantily clad and smiling and screaming, collapsing against walls and depending upon the kindness of strangers.
"Baby doll, lemme tell you how it's going to be."
"No, no, no, no, no!" and everyone is stroking your locks and enticing,
"Let's see just how sick you really are, come on lemme taste your temperature."
And every wall that social pretension and insecurities ever labored and sweat to build, we tear down in uncoordinated ecstacy. Smiles, smiles, smiles, smiles, and they want to be just a little closer, steal the air and create a vaccuum between stumbling bodies, and it's just perfect. But, you're feeling strong enough to say,
"No, thank you, not tonight, I have a boy, and he loves me very much."
"Yeah?"
And in your sweet and inncocent stupor, turn to face this musky pursuer, and prop chin upon palm and elaborate,
"Mmhm, we're getting married, I love him very much. He's got this angel hair."
And so they cross you off the list and you're sort of sad and dutifully relieved, and proud because through your loose contentment, you've been so loyal and you continue the night, parading your taken title happily, only to find your trust was misplaced, you'd be better off in the fumbling hands of these sweet drunken men then hung out to dry by a faithless, bitter lover.
No more, no more, no more. Don't talk to me, don't touch me, don't look at me, don't even think of me you selfish heart breaker. Did I not make myself clear that I was a natural mess, but I loved you more than anything? And by deeming myself deceptive and manipulative, I blinded myself to your lies and your degrading comments, I'm not a whore, I've been loyal, don't call me dumb, I've taken care of myself.
Nothin shiny [Poor language removed]' belt about this [Poor language removed].
Happy days
