The truest self
I feel the most alive when I'm fucking
Skin pricked by lights and psycho
Dark halo of fantasies
Encasing your sugar-sick dreams
I'm not like other girls...
High thigh game on point
And car rides full on lustful hope
Playing handy half-pipes and rusty skies
On the radio
I'm not like other girls...
Thick night and throwbacks
Eyes charmed in meaning
Can I steal a little dream from your pillow?
Or do you need it to exist on Monday?
I'm not like other girls...
Roads whined like snakes on speed
Their rhythm soothes my madness
Fuckery in hand
Holding the river of time in mercy
Does she know?
I'm not like other girls...
Dinner and patti-cakes
Pound cake and pussy-ache
Devils roll your dice
Placing bets and taking names
My distain on your front seat
I'm not like other girls...
Morning tides with dawn
And good people break their necks
Catching trains to cubicle land
Familiar nowhere seats
Do you want your name on my lips?
I'm not like other girls...
I'll never be like other girls.....
Russell Jacklin
Mon 16th May 2022 16:04
Catching trains to cubicle land, nice one