Oversexed and Underfed
Don’t you want me in your bed?
My young young breasts
My nubile thighs
My skillfully painted
Bedroom eyes
Oversexed and Underfed
Did the media put me in your head?
The models taught me
To walk this way
Cosmo tells me
How I should lay
Oversexed and Underfed
Food in my stomach feels like lead
I count my ribs
When I pull off my shirt
I smile when you touch me
So you don’t know it hurts
Oversexed and Underfed
One of these days I’ll end up dead
From all the chemicals
That I require
Just to fit
Into decent attire
He paid in all two dollar bills. It was about ten of them, which isn’t much but it was more of them then I’d ever seen. Why did he have so many?
He was cute, tallish with thick black hair and dark green eyes. The angular features of his face made him seem like he was always on the verge of saying something more…or maybe he just really was. He said he was from Pheonix, which meant he was just staying a night or two. I wouldn’t see him again, but it was so tempting to call the number he left, I just had to know about the two dollar bills. Did he rob a bank? Was he a collector? If he collected them then why was he spending so many here? So many questions.
Of course there was more then that. Like I said he was good looking and older and to charming for my own good. Not in a sleazy way like that blond air force guy who tried to pick me up later that same night. Two dollar bill guy had been funny, looking for a party maybe he had been trying to invite me out.... I don’t think so, that’s a bit far.
Apparently I’m much more romantic than I appear, even to myself. My sardonic and critical exterior would never admit this oh so stereotypical tall dark stranger into my world. But the girl in me, the young girl who never grew out of fairytales would. What if he’s a wonderful person? What if he’s the man I should marry? What if he’s an amazing fuck? Again….so many questions.
So as I watch the snow fall quietly around my little house I wonder how different my night could’ve been if I had the courage to give him my number, or stop him before he left…or ask his room number. Would I have slept there? Would I have found yet another person who was so beautiful yet so unreachable? Would it be just like the other boys I want and can’t have? Is my curse to be the unavailability of the men I want? Tonight when I come home, while I watch the snow fall under the cold blue moon, will there be another one who I wonder about?
