Nine shitty poems.

Sometimes I go to where

No one else can help me.

Sometimes I find myself

Sneaking up behind me.

I use this town's endless supply

Of girls to do my laundry,

And I'll take a bath, or ditch the trash,

If it means to get you on me.

Cause I know you like 'em clean,

Sunshine, I know you want me for

Your tricks and fits

And all night bliss,

You've got that notoriety.

But I like a wide variety;

I feel you should have to sweat a bit.

I think you should make a bet on whether

Or not I can make you stop making a fuss

Over who not to trust,

Or which kind of lust you're lacking;

And which pair of panties I'll be pulling off your waist, tonight.

Your mechanics are apparent

I can smell your thoughts from here

How often you count your steps

And the number of stairs

Leading up to your apartment

I know what you want

And I know how you want it

I know where you shop

And how long in each department

So go to where you can find me

Give it all you've got.

Try to surprise me.

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