i wondered why it took you, nick
so long to say you liked my eyes.
you said “i can’t make tips–
in a regular bar, so i hit on guys.”
i went each day to gaze at your tits
sit at your bar, and watch you hypnotize.
i remembered you from way back when,
but later i made out with too many men.
i went to gay bars, to be free of my scars,
and then i met you, again, my friend.
you were queerbating all the gay men,
i was waiting for you to want me–
all the way back then.
2007.
and 8.
see i was this make-out whore.
always on the run,
always looking to score.
racking up hookups,
trying not to puke up,
the beer.
that peered.
deep daggers like spears.
into my heart that screamed–
“you’ll never love me
i’ll never be loved!
you’re so far above me
i’ll never be loved!”
but you were there.
surrounded by beer.
but mostly bougie drinks for the gays–
my best friends the gays.
TIM and LUKE!
took me to gay bars.
to lessen my odds,
that i’d find a bad man to fuck–
it was always in his truck.
but i only “made out”
i told my mother who said:
“are you still a good christian girl?”
while she fucked with my head.
what a world. what a world.
i’m still the good christian girl,
if you’re still–
the bad winter soldier.
there you were, seb.
but i called you nick miller,
john d. hated you
cuz you sucked as a bartender.
i taught you how to grab bottles by the neck.
john didn’t care that you
were hot enough to get the check.
but i still did, and do.
you were both straight.
it was my fate.
that i can’t get away from FUCKING GUYS
who are FUCKING STRAIGHT.
speaking of.
new girl had a nick miller.
but you were this other nick miller.
you actually
acted
exactly.
like jess’s nick miller.
so, you took me back to your place,
said you’re “killer”
to fuck.
(if you want to know who we were together, google “nick and jess best moments.” forever, nick and lyss. not jess. but that’s who we are, whenever we’re around each other, like–)
i keep rhyming,
i can’t find my timing,
around you.
I keep laughing,
it’s all i do in passing,
the time with you.
that one year in chicago,
you had platinum blonde hair, like me.
i said “it’s not as tempting
as your regular brown.”
it’s also what they were saying about me,
when they gathered to gossip ’round town–
about me.
(i have so many gossips)
::eye roll emoji::
you changed your hair back.
like i did.
and i want you to know that–
we made out,
against the tent.
you took me to “vent”
but you lied.
and you slipped your hand between my thighs.
parted my lips with your tongue.
told me i was “the one”.
so well, umm,
i wanted to tell you that–
in all the ways, i love you.
and you will always be–
erik the great,
leo the sagittarius,
and that man that i hate.
and
the bartender I was obsessed with at the gay bar that’s straight.
you are the one.
i am the son.
he is my love.
but you did it
to shit.
remember that–
flipping bottles,
is like flipping knives,
just with more glass (and vodka) on the line.
remember when we both knew all the stans?
they don’t exist anymore, but you do, my man.
