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Here’s One for the Ladies

I dont know another you
I’m talking to clocks
With the oven on high
Nothing but crackers and my head to cook
Gas wave mirages
Images of fourth kind romance
No one leaves
I keep my skin
Your hair doesnt smell like another cunt
My mouth doesnt taste like bitter pills
Running down my throat
Blowing lines of you and me and another year
Where we dont say what we mean
I pretend like i can cook
But that stove top
Is on for one
And youll find me
The note is always the same
I rewrite it like i mean it every other month or so
Where are you forgetting about me
I’m a charming chorus line dancer
50’s playmate
A vacuum cleaner striptease
Money daddy
Martini wishes stacking up in the sink
Panty hose rope hanging from the windows
I’ve only got a backwards count of 20 to go


About deadendemily

Emily lives in Austin, TX. She has a minor in chaos and a major in spray paint. She likes Vincent Price and ABBA. She enjoys being covered in fake blood and writing horror stories. Most of the time she just hopes that her cat is not plotting to murder her, her cat being a minion of Satan and all. They would never suspect the cat.

One response to “Here’s One for the Ladies

  1. wiredwriter ⋅

    Most fabulous.

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