The last time was different

Ended up taking my virginity at contract point of full consent

Now we are here again; our strange feelings screaming for release

But it’s opposite to the moment before

You send message after message, and I leave no space for time to relax

Sending it back like a letter kissing the ankles of a bird

This is parallel to that place of familiarity, where I assume our bodies might once again speak

But that does not happen, as our clock calls all around freak time

And it’s a shame we greet ourselves with the common bedroom location

So I hit you up with a “hey big head” text, though I know our relationship calls for other terminology

Just for you to reply “lol, is it wrong that I’m here staring at my ridiculous bedroom door assuming you’d walk in soon”

And that got me wanting you in all inappropriate ways,

Those foreign trumpets of how you might hit home run like the first time

And for that emotion to be met with the discipline of my thoughts, taking parental control of how that time wasn’t right

So I ended our perfect love scene by not replying back