irate professional ii

daddy, you haven’t talked to me or come to see me, in soooo long
I miss your touch, sound of your voice, too much for me to take
I must run, must keep my head about me in this boring town of nothing
don’t kiss me, stop kissing me, this loser feeling out of control
beyond control, beyond mind, trying to control, me, not letting go
holding on too strong, coming on too long,
needing space, getting attached too quick, mad afraid,
this is all he craves, how can I escape?
if I make it past today, never again, never explain
completely confused, I know his entire game
too much on the first try, too aggressive, all cards shown
not knowing when to fold
calculated his way into this orchestrated flat part
not reading the signs revealed in eyes
unable to read between lines
only chemical parts, in playing the part
the seductive depart, slowly baiting the catch
no resistance, too exhausted, no commitment
too much at once, overwhelmed completely
by hands that betray trust or care not for what I think first
or how I feel best, distrusting his heart
or simply the art of calculated naivety
not giving his heart, machine like cold conduct falling apart
a novice in art, too old to be trained from the start
escape at last, escape the past, freedom is given in part
till with him I meet again


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