This is not mine.
from here: http://amtam.ipbhost.com/index.php?showtopic=12765
By Amber Tamblyn
DECLARE WHORE
"When I said drop me off,
I meant from your cliffhanger answer.
I’m tired of hanging on you like mold to pond scum.
Do you love me?
Like a trading card that makes your collection complete?
Because your silence is worse than any
“don’t tell mommy about grab tush” game
that was ever not told by a 6 year old.
You make my feelings a reality show,
not worth a second season.
I say, “They’re real!”
you say,
“An actress is far from real.”
We fight like red ants caught in my cigarette carton-
Who’s gonna smoke who?!?!
Well baby,
Round 2 will be point blank
not point made.
Your stain is a rug burn
I clean up on my knees
with my mouth.
Why can’t you see that
I am your tetherball baby
and I will always come back to you
when you hit me.
Why can’t you admit it?
Our kind of sex makes animals screw like it’s humanistic.
Silence, is a prize fighter
who cheats in the ring.
So lets take it there,
like a black cat to a tire wheel,
Your streets are lit to shucks and I am drunk driving
through your spin zones.
There is no problem with your fingers smelling like
my kind of cheap red wine.
When opened, I ripen.
When forgot, I go BAD.
The possibilities, are endless.
If I were a Muslim woman,
I would invent the crotchless Burka for YOU.
“EASY ACCESS, THAT’S EASY ON THE EYES.”
But instead,
I’d rather put your full name on the tag
and pray to Allah that you have a real good hiding place.
Getting you to surrender to a girl who wishes she could respect herself,
is like getting me to file pornography under,
“pornography”
on my hard drive.
Why cant you just support this cooperative, nihilistic need to sling cum shots all over my body like silly puddy?
Why wont you just verbally rape me like I never asked for it!
I’ll huff and puff and blow
your brick wallpaper down.
If It’s a slut’s dance card you're holding that pencil for,
Then I declare Whore."
from here: http://amtam.ipbhost.com/index.php?showt
By Amber Tamblyn
DECLARE WHORE
"When I said drop me off,
I meant from your cliffhanger answer.
I’m tired of hanging on you like mold to pond scum.
Do you love me?
Like a trading card that makes your collection complete?
Because your silence is worse than any
“don’t tell mommy about grab tush” game
that was ever not told by a 6 year old.
You make my feelings a reality show,
not worth a second season.
I say, “They’re real!”
you say,
“An actress is far from real.”
We fight like red ants caught in my cigarette carton-
Who’s gonna smoke who?!?!
Well baby,
Round 2 will be point blank
not point made.
Your stain is a rug burn
I clean up on my knees
with my mouth.
Why can’t you see that
I am your tetherball baby
and I will always come back to you
when you hit me.
Why can’t you admit it?
Our kind of sex makes animals screw like it’s humanistic.
Silence, is a prize fighter
who cheats in the ring.
So lets take it there,
like a black cat to a tire wheel,
Your streets are lit to shucks and I am drunk driving
through your spin zones.
There is no problem with your fingers smelling like
my kind of cheap red wine.
When opened, I ripen.
When forgot, I go BAD.
The possibilities, are endless.
If I were a Muslim woman,
I would invent the crotchless Burka for YOU.
“EASY ACCESS, THAT’S EASY ON THE EYES.”
But instead,
I’d rather put your full name on the tag
and pray to Allah that you have a real good hiding place.
Getting you to surrender to a girl who wishes she could respect herself,
is like getting me to file pornography under,
“pornography”
on my hard drive.
Why cant you just support this cooperative, nihilistic need to sling cum shots all over my body like silly puddy?
Why wont you just verbally rape me like I never asked for it!
I’ll huff and puff and blow
your brick wallpaper down.
If It’s a slut’s dance card you're holding that pencil for,
Then I declare Whore."
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