When it’s quiet, it’s a roar.
Stillness doesn’t suit me, yet I’m certain it fits like a glove.
Goddamn I wish someone loved me – even a little.
I keep seeing men from my past who swore they weren’t interested in a girlfriend Now, with girlfriend!
I am like a stinky cheese.
I sound decadent, but when I’m on the palate once is enough.
I suspect Peter is with his lady friend as I haven’t heard from him all day.
The Golfer is likely busy wooing some other woman he’ll probably make plans with 5 days in advance without bitching about it.
Or making love to a bottle and some Titleists.
It’s so quiet I can’t hear.
I can’t breathe the suit is too tight.
I am so completely invisible to the men I am in front of.
I don’t exist.
Hy, Hy, Hy.
Why can they not see me?!
I must just be too quiet.