Boom

Another epic rant from me of ridiculous proportions. I'm going to bed now lol.

_______

I lie in bed in the darkness. Sleepy.
Impossibly sleepy. You have been
Gone a while now. No clue where
You are. If you're alive or dead. Of
Course you were number one in the
Epic legendry of men in my heart.
Of course you were younger than me,
Because I'm a pervert. I don't mean to
Be. I still think I'm sixteen in my head.
I don't know why I'm the way I am.
Not sure how it happened. I won't
Write you anymore. I'm too down on
Myself. Made too aware constantly
That it's just not good enough. Or so
It seems. What I feel for men... People
Are sick of it of course. I'm sick of it.
Still doesn't stop. Just gets worse.
I can see a guy say hi to me or grin
Or laugh or cry or shoot the finger,
Which has become such a horrible
Fetish in me it isn't funny, and my
World goes up in flames. Epic poetic
Transcendental explosive incendiary
Bullshit. Boom. I give my soul to try
To be sexy and enticing. Maybe guys
Feel the same passion I do, just for
Other women. Not for me. But my
Daughter's friend floored me the
Other day. It's ridiculous I hang with
Him. It's not like I have other friends.
He's fun and I love him giving me
New music to listen to. But he got on
A dating app in my kitchen. I saw a
Girl on it. Young and blonde and
A living goddess. I wanted to cry
And scream and pull my hair out.
He wasn't that impressed. He said
He was sure she was probably used
And thrown out constantly. I was
Dumbfounded. I said you mean to
Tell me guys would pull a bust and
Flee on that like they do on me? Yup,
He said. I'll meet guys on apps. They
Of course want sexy type media from
Me. I feel like I'm on fire for the ones
I'm attracted to. I give my soul in
What I send. Just doesn't seem to do
Much. Lol. I keep thinking about my
Mom. She wanted nothing to do with
Men anymore. Nope. She wanted
Nice things. To make jewelry and
Sew all day. She was happy with
Things that didn't move on their own.
I love things that breathe. That have
Cells that take in air. That get tired
And frustrated and fail. I try to give
Them up a lot. When I think about the
Idea closely, it makes me want to
Pour Klorox in a champagne glass
And chug. Not really. I just like that
Analogy. Like how one of the
Heather's met her maker
After Christian Slater laced the
Coffee mug. Boom into the glass
Table. But my epically insane thoughts
Fly back to you now. I guess
I wasn't enough for you. But
You kept writing and saying things
You really shouldn't have said.
Like you really loved me. You
Shouldn't have oded me on the
Bullshit. I still would have talked to
You. Your Instagram avatar still
Haunts me. For some reason you
Sitting against that horizon drives
Me to insanity of love and worship.
But I won't write you. I'm too
Ashamed. I can't believe about that
Young girl. I've never seen a
Prettier girl in my life. And I guess it
Just isn't a big deal anymore, that
Kind of beauty, to guys. Maybe I just
Don't know. Maybe I will never know
Because I'm nowhere near that
Attractive. It's funny. I'm very easy to
Please. I'm very vanilla when it comes
Down to it. If I'm attracted to
Someone, I just can look at his face.
Boom. Fourth of July fireworks show.
I notice it doesn't seem that way for
Dudes anymore. They seem to require
A whole lot of stimulation. It gets
Exhausting to me sometimes. I get
Annoyingly nostalgic, remembering
My high school days. Guys would
Call you on the phone. If you dared
Mention anything sexual he'd pretty
Much be in heaven. Want to marry
Your ass. Or whatever. It just doesn't
Seem to be working anymore. It's
Funny to me. I have such a raging
Libido, and all the world knows I do.
A kiss, a look... A single touch... God
Forbid to feel him against me, to
Smell his skin... Boom. But guys
Seem to need a very long and
Intricate fireworks show. One with
Extreme pyrotechnic feats of dazzle
And the show needs to go on
Overtime. I just get tired sometimes.
I remember being sixteen. I wanted
This one guy so badly. He always
Talked to me. He liked going to
Denny's with me. He liked talking
About smoking weed and writing
Poetry afterwards. He loved jazz.
Tennis player from an extremely
Religious family. Extremely wealthy.
Worked at the country club my
Family ate at. He knew I loved him.
He made out with my best friend,
And she told me she stuck her
Tongue in his ear, and you could tell
He was about to go boom. He'd
Stopped her, said I can't do this yet.
I was so pretty then. So thin. It's
Funny, but it's like I remember
Feeling with him the way I feel with
So many guys now. They're just...
Not where I am in the fireworks show.
Maybe he met a girl that made him
Go boom inside. I don't seem to make
The ones that make me go boom
Go boom in return. Maybe it's like
That for everyone. Maybe in the
Great fireworks show of love, either
You love them or they love you. And
There's nothing in between. Maybe I
Just need to shut up and crash. I
Still love you madly, desperately,
Dearly. I always will. You'll always
Put the boom in my heart.
Good night boom boom.