I wrote this after going out on a partially blind date the other night.It's not really a poem, it's a well placed venting.

Am i boring to you?
I just saw you yawn.
I can sing about Donkey Kong and spin around in circles!
Can you say my name again? You missed the first 'i' and the 'T' at the end.How did you make it sound like the word Mule and Melissa got into a five star car wreck inside your salivary glands?
Millicent. *rolls eyes*
So...
You listen to heavy metal?And you like CinnamonToastCrunch cereal. Let me correct that statement.
You like listening to heavy metal while eating CinnamonToastCrunch cereal at a volume that makes my overies want to vomit eggs through my jeans.
*Screams* Can you even hear me over this shit?
So...
We're out at dinner. And i've ordered these Texican flour tacos with rice and black beans on the side.
And you ask me how many men i've slept with.
*choke*  gag. Black bean up my nose.
I'm having trouble breathing because i'm holding down half digested tortillas.I'm having trouble seeing the waiter that comes to check on our food because i'm crying
And you're sitting across from me. So clueless. As to why this girl decided to choke after your voice just fucked up my night.
So...
I told him twenty six.Fifteen in high school.And twenty six after this year started to get promising.Abundant with penis.
I watched him squirm at the memory of STD slideshows and herpes outbreak commercials.
You want to get that check now?
i think i'm ready for a beer,and i don't even drink beer.
So...
What are you mixed with?You're not Mexican right?
"i'm an orphan" i say, sipping on my coke with two straws, sluuuuuurrrrppping out the possibility of a callback.
E.v.e.r.
So...
Are you ready to go?If you want we can go back to my house?
He goes to pull out his keys and a white packet trojan falls onto the parking lot in front of us.Like a sign.
To become lesbion.
And all of a sudden i'm laughing.Because i could'nt give a fuck if you left me at the Chilie's in Waxahatchie.That would be better than you knowing where i lived or that i have a fish named Goulash.
So...
I'm taking you home?
You can drop me off at Seven eleven. I read poetry for Alcohol on the weekends.He's checking my face for clouds.In awe that anything hot could be so fucked up mentally.
First stoplight home.And i'm running out of the truck,running away from tonight like it was the problem.

Already dating?


You are killing me.

No.Brian you are killing y.o.u.    if i remember correctly there was post from you with the statement 'fuck it' in capital letters.
You forget that train of thought or was it just intended as perephreal vision?
I took it as somewhat of an inspiration. gave up on you all over again after reading that garbage. So don't pull some guilt trip bullshit,i got enough to handle.

 






                           

Yeah. He never called back.*lol*I got over it.