Garbage

A week ago, I felt like you might actually have outgrown me. I felt like you were dragging me in and like this time I might get hurt. Like this time you might have the power to break me.

I was wrong.


You want to.


But you can't.


You told me that this time tomorrow I'd beg for mercy. That this time tomorrow, I'd be exhausted and used.


You told me this time tomorrow, you wouldn't care if it hurt.


Is it because of all those times I lied to your face?
Or slept with your friends?
Or dated someone that wasn't you?
Or those times I forgot your birthday? I still don't know when it is, honey.


The thing you don't know about tomorrow is that I want to feel a firm touch. Even though I'm just playing dress ups with you, you pretending to own me for one night will carry me through. Satisfy my kink.


Truth is, you're still mine babe. Always have been. 


You take one look at my big green eyes, and I can see it on your face. You're still mine.


And at the end of a night, after you fuck me, put your hands around my throat, slap my ass and call me names, you'll love me that little bit more. I'll love you that little bit less.


Don't you understand the game yet?


The more you give, the less I want.


Sad part is, I think you want me on my knees, your cock in my mouth, hoping I'll gag, just so you'll feel like for one moment in ten years I'm yours. 


Every text message you send me softens just a little more than the last. 


You're right, I will look beautiful, looking up at you, your fingers inside me. I know you'll want to keep them there forever.


Remember all those nights, Punk? The ones I left before you woke? Lets be truthful, even if my bodies there in the morning, I won't be.


You can't keep me.


And I'm only happy with you when I think you're over me. I know it's cruel. But when I think you don't love me any more, I love to suck you back in a little, see if I've still got the power.


I do.


So tomorrow night, Punk, take your best shot.