Shall I bite you again?
My strangest lover,
Your morose words spoke to me
Tales of my darkest fears
The ones you read on my palm.
We compared suicide attempts
Like some people compare mutual friends or hobbies
It was your dark souls, spilling out that pulled me in
And it was my dim trials that gave you poems to write.
I sucked life from you and it tasted like orange juice,
Till you were bones same as I
And us skeletons became addicted to nightlife,
Drinking the life from others just to keep up spirits.
We should never have had this
Our love child,
We were never jealous of each other
But of it, with its blood red lips and full head of hair
We were jealous of the warmth in its skin.
Shall I tell you where we'll end up?
Questions Men Have Asked Me On Tinder
Does your husband let you do that?
Fuck other men?
Does he know you’re talking to me?
He owns you right?
That’s why he’s called
Why are you like that?
Don’t you know only sluts aren’t monogamous?
Don’t you know you’re going to die from STDs?
Don’t you know people won’t respect you?
Who made you like this?
Who first called you
So you’re a cheater then?
I can’t trust you
Why don’t you just make up your mind?
That makes me horny,
You and your girlfriend should have a threesome with me
Abigail Pearson is a 22-year-old queer writer of novels and poetry. She has a black cat that she loves to cuddle with as she drinks tea and reads Dostoyevsky. Abigail has recently published a poetry collection titled A Mad Woman’s Voice and she has been published in Moonchild Magazine, The Slag Review and Cease, Cows. She resides in Eugene, OR. You can find her on twitter @whimsywriter3