Virgin suicide

I was on that 144,000 fantasy
believing that the right woman would be saving it for me
but between 8th grade and 22,
I doubt if I met ONE female I was attracted to
who was also a virgin, my soul mate to be
they were all broken in, and sexually free
In my eyes, the best had already been messed with...
and I ended up thinking the virgin bride was a myth.

My faith shattered, what mattered was a carnal desire
that consumed and moved me to love playing with fire
I don't know why but I always had sex on my mind
every other second, like hiccups, my lust made me blind
I couldn’t see clothes or character
I was focused on the aesthetics of her shape and her form

I felt like a wolf with that look in his eye
making all the food nervous, even when I smiled
I couldn’t help myself, it was as if my stomach was growling
attuned to the prey on the streets I was prowling

And when I found a promising morsel to eat
I played with it first, felt its heart beat
and drunk off the rush of temptation I dared
I gave in and slipped in, and enjoyed it, teeth bared

But the magic I expected never showed up
there were no fireworks or explosions, nothing blew up
ts much as I took, I took nothing away
there was still something missing, for all that she gave

I was confused. She was pretty, her body fit mine
but when we weren’t having sex, she was a waste of my time
and the ones that came later, it was the same thing with them
it got boring and I realized I needed a friend

But finding a flower in the weeds of that phase of my life
was like looking for that perfect match to take as my wife
the interviews and trials were depressing at best
while I looked for a girlfriend, revising my tests

It got to the point that if it took me too long
to figure out if the girl was the right one for me or wrong
my interest would wear out, like a record with a groove
I’d keep playing the song, but it wouldn’t make me move

I learned the hard way all that glitters ain’t gold
some of those relationships took no time to get old
and some failed for reasons I cannot explain
they'd look different, sound different, or become a pain

I considered I was looking for something that didn’t exist
and projecting it on any pretty face with nice tits
I played mind and heart games to keep myself entertained
until karma caught up with me and my conscience complained

Still, happiness eluded me, though I was self-reformed
no store had my size, making me feel deformed
and when I got tired of walking around
barefoot on the uncomfortably cold, rocky ground
I stuffed my feet in some shoes made too small
gave me bunions, arch problems, and cramped both my soles

I still haven’t found that perfect love yet
but my vision’s not great, so there’s that, and that’s it.

©12.22.16 ebn