You don't owe me any apologies You don't owe me a thing You could say that I'm not your type before you admit that they'll make me king I stare at the screen but nothing's playing You're not paying attention to anything I'm saying I check the clock: Should I log on? Knowing what'll happen I'll just slog on On a lonely night I question myself again Question my commitment to whatever's within Shouldn't I be like everyone else, hooking up on online sites? Behind a computer screen? Observing the rites? I have nothing that I want to share You're not skinny but you're not a bear I want to be fun, hell, I want to care But I'm damaged beyond comprehensive repair Hand me a drink and listen to me talk I'm just a bald dude with a distinctive stalk On a lonely night, all you have to do is ask But. Knowing this about myself doesn't make me smile I type messages empty of content, about as solid as bile weak-kneed I project an image of great power that comes from my eyes and my vicious glower I hold all the cards, and you hold all the cash however you win because you have the ass I'd like to grab your hips and smash into you but dignified I just lean down and tie my shoe I don't lose control, I'm conservative at worst Words spring from me like a microburst It's not raining, it's pouring, where's it raining from, the moon? And what goes down in the park at high noon? Then I rationalize that talking to people is like drinking sand So on a lonely night I boot up a site and spend the evening with my dick in my hand.
Reason for writing:
I felt much like writing this, as I don't go out much during the weekdays despite being out of school until late August.
Birth sign: Aries
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