I asked for what I wanted, from whom I wanted. BUT … wait for itt … before I could strut in my heels towards your sex of a body, I cowered in the corner and failed to seize what was mine that night.

I couldn’t accept what I had written, I wanted to cry. Or GAG or BREAK MY PHONE. Whichever meant the return of a stupid stupid message. I cringed with embarrassment; as if the thought wasn’t enough I felt the goosebumps cover my body, on the INSIDE! AHHH
You would think we all have more confidence about what we want in life and who with. And whatever possesses us to send a fucked up message we’ll stand our ground, LIKE A MAN. But no, I had to step outside my comfort zone, be exposed, spontan-fucking-neous, and cute. BARF. Then flutter in a mess cuz I’m a GIRL.

But, this too shall pass. I’ve learned my lesson(sss), yet again, and I’m NEVER gonna tell you what is on my mind again or EVER. Put yourself through these squirming emotions I’m currently feeling, and then… yup… no wonder you have no balls.

Were I was prone to it, trust me, I would be hyperventilating now, in a panic, with my breath caught. The screen FLASHING the infuriating blue speech bubble of a message. If I hold my hand up, let it hover above the keyboard it will shake, if you look into my face you will be SHOCKED by my mortified heart, all for what I asked of you. To do with you.

Fun and play, none for me THANK YOU SIR.

Miss Mess



About iheartmess

A Middle Eastern Londoner 20-something living the 'western' life in between London and home.
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