feralism

The one who was my first love, the one who stole my attention.


The one who I never told, the one who thought he was too old.


The one who smoked all the weed, the one who tried to die, the one who didn't want to be my guy.


The one who came from America. The one with bitter cocksureness. The one who couldn't do sex.


The one who I lusted after for years. The one who knew everyone. The one whose one I wasn't.


The one who I thought was out of my league. The one who violated me.


The one who weaved my behaviour with his words. The one that never ends and never starts.


The one who takes my breath away, and if pursued, would make me gay. The one from whom I stay away.


The one who wasn't who he said he was. The one who is a coward. The one who repulses me.


The one who isn't going to be a one.




One, One, One, One, but still not Won.



Zero is the hero!



I don't know why I wrote that just now but it's already evoking feelings of stupidity coursing through my veins. To not post it would still be to deny my self, evidently, in all her inverted self-anal word-wastage.

The pride is dead, long live the pride.