xx

love fighting against all odds isn’t poetic anymore
my pink lipstick stains on wine glasses and joints are

he’s like a certified prince born with all the riches in the world
yet fucking him is such bad taste
money can’t buy you class

but money can buy you designer perfume
that overpowers the smell of mediocre shit around you

and while you’re busy nibbling on every piece of meat you find
i devour mine whole
raw
rare, unapologetically