Loving a Bad Boy ( A pathetic tale of Distress)

The buzz of a booty call at the midnight hour,

beckoning the smell of sex.

Moans rhythmic to the sound of the alarm clock.

His carnal desire must be sated, and she must get ready.

A fly by the night in a game of fronts and vibes.

Always an option when his sexual temperature rises.

Piercing her skin with words,

tattoos of his game in her mind.

Hickies on her neck now a fleeting evidence of all

the joy rides as he fronted like a pimp,

broke it down to her like a thug.

Always in trouble, a dangerous type of lifestyle

she has become accustomed to.

A thrill she commiserates with, crazy fun she loves.

A Hue of mahogany stung out in a confidence called swag.

Feeding her with broken promises, lies, and disrespect.

Accumulating trophies from all his travels,

trading places each time with a perfected act to suit his needs,

satisfy his desire and lustful feeling, quenching his thirst.

Leaving used condom wrappers as clues to last night’s sexual crimes.

Keeping scores by keeping women’s panties and bras as gifts from his adventures.

Unfulfilled promises and non committal acts all a part of his special cuisine.

A meal served with extra spice just to suit his needs,

double after dark as the tantrums of his phallus beckons.

Buying time with parties and clubs, leaving answers at

bottoms of beer bottles as he keeps her up all night.

Training a hawk under dim lights, creeping in between

club lavatories just to rub up on other females.

Inconsistent vibes, words locked behind a penitentiary,

smoky eyes and fake smiles.

In a strip poker game of booties and tits.

A sexual politician defined by swag, public service penis.

His name resonating through the street,

accumulating scores in a game of disrespect.

Tales of his conquests, while keeping her on a pedestal.

She knows better not to trust him, she understood

the effects of loving a man whose middle name was unfaithful.

But she still loved this bad boy.

He gave off a rare stench that just drove her crazy.

She knew the repercussions now soiled in her panties.

Taking up many forms just to please him.

Caressing shady roles just to appeal to him.

Speaking figures of speech screaming attention

to a deaf and dumb horny audience.

Inconsistencies, mind games and disrespect.

An emotional roller coaster all a part of her pain

as she wears her favorite lingerie, sexy black dress,

lets down her beautiful hair, and wears her heels.

It’s a quarter past midnight and he’s standing outside

in the corner smoking, rubbing on his chin,

constantly checking his watch and scratching his balls.

An anticipation rising, following simultaneously as the consummation of the booty call.

© FloetryC



Author: AfroetryC

I am an African woman and a mother to a precious little angel. I love to use the term "Afro-floetic Queen" mostly to describe my poetry and my roots. I love poetry...art, soul music and inspirational bits of knowledge to offer advice and counseling to those who need it. I can be very witty, straight forward but fun. Ha. ha... A colorful perception of the world - expressed in my poetry. I want to inspire people with my Poetry...give them hope, while also advising them. Life is a learning process and i am happy when one of my pieces directly affects or inspires one of my readers. Let's take a detour around experience, and let me fill your minds with sweet poetic juices.... Note: Just changed my user name from FloetryC to AfroetryC because the latter is more personal and describes my Spoken Word Poetry better.

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