Dear Ms. Leading,

I regret to inform you I've fallen out of lust.
It must be so hard to understand.
Did you really think me a fool enough to play along?
And make believing everything you said was true
Push your pouting lips on other unsuspecting lovers

The Dear Hunter



Gap-toothed and wide eyed, my teeth were worth bills
Until they stopped escaping and braces held them like convicts
My identity crisis broke into a wild fit of piercings and hair dye
And chased adolescence with a shot of cynicism

Peeling my training bra from my shoulders
The sun left a pink stain ten years deep
I am me, cursed with heat exhaustion
Socially black-listed due to expectation asphyxiation

White lace ideation scratches my scabby, bony knees
But still I'm convinced to want lace to cover my life
To cover my eyes
With a white picket smile in the window of a kitchen
And my love-swollen hands resting on my expectant belly

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