Queens don’t complain

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And to think that he loved me,
Boy was I so wrong,
Choosing himself over and over again,
Did I not see that coming?
Even when everything was so obvious!
“Fire on Fire” he said!
“Get on your knees” he said!
How did I let myself go in so deep?
I’m not a fool, that I know for sure,
Just a hopeless girl in love!
Knowing all too well my deepest desires, yet
Lust was the endgame for him.
More love was what I needed,
Not the erotic disaster that we had created.
“Open wide baby,”
“Please don’t be so dramatic,”
“Queens don’t complain,” he preached daily.
Returning every night to my metallic bed,
Sleep always preceeded by a session of tears,
Trying to make of what I had gotten myself into,
Under the white satin sheets that tried to comfort me,
Voices screaming in my head, all with my own voice.
“What? Why? How?” Endless questions I try to decipher daily,
Xylophone music always calms me down, or is it the saxophone?
Yes! With all the booze in my head, I can’t tell the difference,
Zigzag thoughts all become dissolved in the most peaceful sleep.


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