Oh, the irony,

Never thought I'd be the victim of a hit and run, never thought I'd be the victim of a lack of fun. Never thought I'd be the victim of a love triangle, but here I am standing, slumping, hiding my face. It's the worst possible kind of triangle, the equilateral, the strongest shape, the one architects and hipsters orgasm over. The one you have a tattoo of on your left bicep. The one you're going to have a tattoo of on your left bicep. Oh, oh, oh, the irony of this group of three. The two of you are too close for any of this to end well. But here I am rocking back and forth with my mind cascading down a waterfall. I had never been kissed like you kissed me, you with the tattoo, you who curled your arm around me and held me tight as I slept. But then you who will soon be matching in tattoodom, you give me a different kind of butterflies. You kissed me suddenly and in secret, the first chance you got to be alone with me. I don't know who I want. The boy who kissed my rough or the boy who kissed me soft. I want one of you to take control and go for it and kiss me again and again. Here I am craving more than just a kiss but promising myself to leave it at just that. I have far too many feelings to be getting myself into anything right now and we all know that. Besides, it was just a kiss.
It was only a kiss.