(Note: This was written for a desktop and formats badly on a mobile phone.)
Maybe I could try a little harder to be a little less
suck in that gut pin up that skin oil those surgery scars but
the makeup can’t conceal the way recent trauma aged me
and I can’t always avoid eye-contact
What I could just do is speak a little softer
less opinions whining contradictions and fuck shit cunt words
the problem’s that the stuff piles up under my tongue then
spews out sudden dishevelled tangles of my truths
Perhaps I should take my clothes off less often
stop the cock sucking pussy licking arse bruising and forgetting
who I’ve fucked blurred boundaries are my comfort zones the
bearable lightness of being spread wide open
It could be that I’m tacky for loving in multiples
spreading my too much too thin too many partners a gluttonous
abundance needy greedy helpless I just can’t shut love up by
covering my ears and screaming only one name
Maybe I could try a little harder to be a little less
or maybe I just need a bigger house.