to the infamous you,

 

i woke up one day and i knew it was true

i’d finally let go of the endeavour that was you

it took months of constant, well, shit

and meanwhile you still never found my clit.

all jokes aside now I’m a woman you see

and this woman knows you’ll never again touch me

don’t ask me what the devil i saw

to be quite honest you were often quite the bore.

no no, i don’t blame you for all those.. issues

but i’ll write a memo to send you my tissues

no i won’t be needing those but darling, you will.

What I mean to say is haven’t you seen my mother?

like fine wine we improve with age, so be prepared, my lover

don’t get me wrong what we had it was fun

but i don’t need a little boy who’ll get close then run

i loved playing games it was a thrill i’ll give you that

except you took it too far and looked like a class A prat

you called me ugly, and put me down in every way you could

despite the fact i worshipped the ground on which you stood

but less of the heartache I’m no victim so forgive me please

your boys they still want me from overseas

ha.

but back to the business I’m finally scot- free,

so don’t come calling just let me be,

you were a lesson well learnt and i thank you for that

you taught me how you can in fact love a massive twat

anyway i hope you find closure in these fleeting ladies

and wish you well in your treatment for rabies

i know i know i joke too much, i laugh too hard,

but thats just me- miss avant- garde

so excuse me for my fierceness and lack of grace

i’m sorry i can’t be just a complacent pretty face

i wish you well and every success but just so you know

if you call me in 10 years time, it’ll be a resounding no

 

take care, don’t get bald and fat,

love always, your notorious Nat x

 

 

 

 

timeless reprisal

‘darling you’re timeless’

london town, breeze in the air,

you’ve got that same old aura,

that never seems to wear.

i meet your viridescent eyes,

i flinch.

you think it’s still there.

 

and just like that you’re back,

that old familiar glint,

your hands on my thighs,

where you left your print.

but i push you away,

and cut your reprise,

‘whats timeless little boy,

are your games,

and your lies’

 

sin master 

4.58
my mind starts to collate.

the correlation of burning hate

and why fucking you was great.

I mean,

as it goes for flings

you had me on strings

i’d be screaming in your face

yet end up back at your place.

I liked playing games with you

you were as twisted as me

actually boy I was better

I just never let you see.

I was your little toy thing

‘she’s at my beck and call’

but did you watch my shadow?

sometimes puppets fall..

 

stop acting prude and i won’t be so crude

don’t talk to you of love?

yeah, you’ve had an earful,

well thats you and I both,

so don’t get all tearful

 

it’s not like I’m asking you,

to be there in the morning,

just knock on my door,

when the night is dawning

 

it’s not that I’m looking,

for you to jet me off to Rome,

i’m happy enough to wrap my legs around you,

for hours at home

 

i don’t mean to be brash,

but after much reflection,

i’ve come to wonder why,

affection rhymes with erection?