I do not compete with a lock screen. Eyes on me. Hands on me. If you can scroll you are not as into this, mouth.
Tag: boundaries
Unavailable is not mysterious. It is unpaid labour I do in my head. If he wanted to, that message would already be sitting right there.
I leave product everywhere. I know that. Still, if you use my mascara I will know. A shared flat is not a shared bloody face.
Not romantic on paper. Still adult. A man who can say the word clinic without crumbling is doing more than the ones who just hope.
I like being asked. I like it more when you pay attention after. Consent is not paperwork. It is you noticing I am still here.
How many. How often. Who it was. That is not public property. Curiosity dressed as concern still wants a full guided tour of my sheets.
No speech. Just the look and an extra mug on the side. Flatmates see the mascara and the hour. Lying is pretty pointless in here.
People love a girl who is easy to plan around. I have taste. I have a body. Wanting both respected is not me being difficult.
Drinks, sex, a vague plan that never lands on a calendar. I am done collecting almosts. Book a table or do not get me tonight.
It is a man who liked attention, not the Tuesday. Stop dressing it as complexity. If he cannot say what this is, it is nothing.