2020

In my indecision two thousand and nineteen times i was fucked
And just couldn't decide if i was enjoying myself, or not,
Which would be a perfect opportunity to daydream if my body wasn't squashed
And timing his pleasure

There are better ways to keep the hands busy when daydreaming
How could i possibly lose myself to a stranger?
Well, im just not sure what to do with myself
Last century i’d definitely be frigid, possibly perverse.
And now?

I fake orgasms in the same way a mother soothes a baby
Rocking to sleep in the cradling arms
So love, maybe
Not exactly a lie
As in some parts a man is made from moans
If not made from moans he will be made from cries
And it is less tiring to moan and squeak than to cry

Or, alternatively, neither.
I could just abort this man.
And make a different one all together.
Yes, that will be my next project.

Roll on 2020.