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Sex in Cars With Boys


My newest single is

having sex in cars

with boys especially

in parking lots behind

bars. It's not that

I'm short changing

the experience just

that I'm living with

my parents and so

was this one guy. How

many lovers on days

like Feb 14th call

their sisters asking

for advice? My sis

rang and I told her

this poem and then

I explained how human

hearts are the dirtiest

thing in the dictionary

and if you don't love

the smell of your own

shit you can't love

someone else's.

Here's a juicy piece for readers who actually want to be here. Even though I deleted my tindr account days after activating, I'm still seeing one nice dude I met on the interweb. We're not serious because being serious is for losers. I kid but actually, we've talked about it and he's busy helping his parents and I'm making the move into a new city and pretty much my first solid attempt at the farce of adulthood. Plus I don't want to date anyone more than just casually less than a month after ending a relationship that meant a lot to me and that I am still processing.

But here's where the meat comes in. I'm thinking a lot about love and I figure you all are too. And so's my lovely twin and we just had a talk that reminded me one of the most important lessons on love I've learned. Basically, you already know that you have to "love the mess" or lose the rest right? Well, as a person who tries to help/take care of/etc those around me, it was always very difficult to not offer help to partners. Granted, I've often just silently carried their emotions around and then resented them for it (oops). Yet, in talking with my sis I thought when we who love try and help, isn't it a little bit selfish?

Like I used to use the word "homeostasis" a lot when talking about previous relationships, "I just want to reach homeostasis" a level field, find some balance etc etc. But that's just doublespeak for: I want you to be happy so you can start making me happy. I want to take your burdens away and put them in the junk drawer in the kitchen so we can finally have some fucking peace, you fucking mess. What I mean is, I didn't know how to deal with my problems, so I offered to bury everyone else's so everything could be quiet and safe. As quiet and safe as the fake flower section of a Jo-Ann's.

When we're saturated with this love stuff, it's hard to let go of the pressure to show love and accept love but stop it. Show and accept love on your own terms when you're ready and in the meantime listening is quiet enough. 

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