What’s wrong with me poems

A search that reaches these shores. And all searches deserve an appropriate port.

Lately, she wants to kiss every new man she meets. She longs to touch and grab. Her sexual proclivities are streatching the bounds of what she believes. Even though she’s been inviting them into her home, she doesn’t want any to stay. She thinks nothing of it until her mother asks her over a lunch of chicken salad and iced tea, “Are you seeing anyone special.” She’s crying without telling why. Later, she turns to google for answers.

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Filed under lust and love, Musings, poetry, Searchers, Uncategorized

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