We met.
eyes across the room…I looked away.
You had a short skirt on,
so I looked at your legs
instead.
Were you hot or not I thought…
We ate with friends.
It was dark…Were you pretty?
Then we talked
and now I know you.
You do my 'ead in!
You talk shit you’re such a dick.
Fuck, shut up! You’re dull,
your breath stinks and your teeth are bad!
Sort your hair out. Clean your clothes.
Christ, I hope no one thinks we’re together.
That was pretty enjoyable. I read it a few times, liked it each time.
Good story.
And regardless of all that,
your on the way here,
and we’re gonna fuck.
When you can clean up her vomit and shit and still want to be with her, you love her. Sex is icing on the cake. You’ll probably like yourself and her more if you start baking before applying icing. Just a thought.
Another good one!
You should make a collection: Poems for your darling filthy whore
Good sex told well
is ugly
nice Raven like
SQUAAAAK*
I wholeheartedly agree but there are impulses that urge themselves in the meantime 
. In fact, a lot of my recent bile has been due to the escape of once such bake-worthy piece of cake…
Ahahaha, well put! And…im sorry…that sucks. But life goes on! On!