A full month and change later 

I’m once again ovulating 

I can barely remember what his face looked like 

Apparently I’m addicted? 

This can’t be chalked up to frustration

I’m so annoyed about how much I’m aching inside 

I don’t like 

Talking on metronomes 

I don’t like 

How my reflection looks 

I want… 

I don’t know what I want 

Why do I keep telling myself that I’ll be happier alone 

Why can’t I just gaze at males 

Without the dangerous part 

Why can’t I just love myself-  

Fuck, fuck, fuck! 

I can’t write fifty more lines of this shit 

I should’ve been asleep, no, I can’t do this 

But I stayed up every night for the past two months 

Yes, that day, too 

I can’t close my eyes comfortably 

Ooh, ooh, ooh 

I can’t rest unless I do something foolish 

Pretend I’m not the only one 

Like I had somewhere to send my love 

Even though I’m afraid of men 

My body is an idiot 

It’s one fucking forty a.m. 

I’m fucking hungry again 

(Sorry, I curse when I’m… me.) 

And my mind started playing games as soon as I started writing, hell yeah 

This is my reality now isn’t it 

I live inside my head 

That’s the only happy place I have 

I chose this damn jungle 

I made my own damn bed 

And I can’t afford therapy so writing’s the best I get 

But I’m getting sick of phrases 

Who even fucking cares about male gazes 

Shit!