My soul is in orbit Dear cute penis toter, I'm sorry-- I never really came I felt disgusted Not just because you were fat Not because watching you struggle to piece together some depraved image in your head to make you cough up your tiny, anti-climactic globules of old man cum was excruciating No Because it was so annoyingly easy You're a self destruct button's best friend Because you believed mommy when she soaped you up and made you feel like royalty And of course, all your conquests-- id est, people who acquiesced to mutual masturbation with an endearing, naive prick such as yourself It was because ultimately, you're garden variety Even C never bought into the wide eyed, 'involuntary' muscle contractions You're the embodiment of Dunning Kruger I didn't think so at first But then you couldn't commit to the joke --and I was laying out loaves for you, not breadcrumbs I had to hold your meaty, swollen, sweaty hand the whole time And three cocks later, you still don't get it Now I have to conclude you won't
Bippity, No matter how ugly I get --I believe you'll remember who I was when I confused your foot for a table leg And I'll remember when you didn't move I want to braid your Viking hair I'm sorry I break your heart I'm a little bit glad that I still can |