I couldn't decide if I hated her...or wanted to be her.
She attracted men like flies on a picnic.
Didn't have to do anything but lick her watermelon lips.
And they came in droves.
One potato. Two potato. Three potato.
Her fourth was once mine.
Bad hair days weren't in her forecast,
and the way she threw on her clothes made us all want to tear them off.
It all seemed so fucking effortless.
But it couldn't be.
Could it?
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