The morning after disappointment,
your mind plays a repetitive trailer
featuring foreshadowed futures
climaxed with each erased never intended.
Scenes sensualized by impromptu phrases
and charming punch lines of lies
that have been encouraged by the possessor
of an impatient heart.

Make believe
makes more sense
than a bed
with a solo occupant.

Insecurities wrapped in the warmth
of negative spirited body heat.
Human flesh smothers the desire
for emotions to heal.
Gut instinct becomes masked with sexual lust,
all while floating on a stream of tears
produced by your cloudy existence.

That’s what happens
when one acts as if
they’re ready for love.
When in fact,
they’re not.

Prematurely promoted intern
with lessons of the past, never learned.
Self-Teacher with enough credentials
to earn a MBA…
Master Bullshit Attractor.

You are what you answer to,
“Baby”,
fetal positioned moments of satisfaction
construct the obligation
to pamper an asshole
with swaddled love.

Grow up..
Learn to love yourself first
© Tenisha M Jones 2015