Manic, medicated, locked inside and isolated, but still patiently I waited. Sad and frustrated. I clearly stated, I don’t want to be the one that’s hated. Feeling deflated, eyes still dilated, texts to you are becoming R-rated. This isn’t something I fabricated, now feeling suffocated, and humiliated.

I didn’t want to upset you, I already have a woman that’s infuriated, I don’t need this to be duplicated, but I’m irritated and pissed over a situation I created. The terms were already stipulated, but I didn’t know you were so sophisticated, and would make me feel invigorated and rejuvenated. It was never my intention to make you feel intimated, but I was shocked, I hadn’t felt this way since I graduated.

You have a boyfriend now, that point felt very calculated. Great, can I ask you then if he’s making you feel stimulated, appreciated, and celebrated, why did you call me to get you lubricated? Was I a mistake? We’re you that intoxicated, and inebriated? I loved your home it was so well decorated. That coconut water should have been carbonated.

My mouth is dry, trying to get wasted to the vodka I gravitated, my mouth to yours I salivated. I’m obsessed, clearly. Feelings for you I underestimated. By asking you questions I investigated, your body on my mind I concentrated. I’m so fascinated with you as I clearly demonstrated. I just want to talk, you don’t have to be penetrated, just please be at least caffeinated.
Call me, I’m sorry I was high and drunk and didn’t mean to be so aggravated, maybe this coke is making me constipated. I’m fucking crazy that hasn’t been debated. I promise if we talk again I’ll be meditated, just please don’t flyaway until we can get reacquainted.

© Thirdface