He Is Having A Baby

He is having a baby,
And it’s not with me!
Damn asshole,
Maybe he is one, maybe he is not.
Maybe am the bitch
who went right on ahead
To open my legs wide apart
For him even though I saw signs of another woman in his apartment.
She had clearly marked her territory;
A couple of pairs of shoes in the shoe rack,
A lone earring somewhere on the floor,
A bra in the laundry basket,
More earrings on the bedside rack…
More bras…
And I still went on and slipped my panties off for him…

He is having a baby,
And it’s not with me but it’s with her…
Her because she was always the one,
and I went right on and invaded her territory …
She always had the upper hand,
I knew about her
But she never knew about me
Even though she once made breakfast for me in his apartment!
So yea I am the bitch!
Or maybe be I am not.
Maybe am just a girl who saw a boy
And liked what she saw
And built a castle in the air for both of them,
Hoping they would get to live happily forever after.
Maybe am just a woman
Who had found a man who does her right,
With every touch,
Every kiss,
Every lick driving her to ecstasy,
Leaving her body trembling against his.

He is having a baby,
And it’s not with me and it sure hurts like hell.
But I was just the girl who lay in his bed when she wasn’t around.