How I Wish He Loved Me
How I wish he loved me. Overheard conversations. His indifference, his levity. Always a player, play-ah, bitches, beech-as. I know I'm stupid. Don't mind being stupid for him. He knows I'm stupid for him. Takes me for granted. I want to be taken for granted.
The men rushed toward the open door. “Not so fast, fuck-os,” she said. Annie was a small woman, no more than five-foot-three with most of her weight in her disproportionate breasts, of which she often complained gave her backaches.