I don't understand why most poets don't name their pain
I do, I want to make it plain to myself, so I can refrain
From making the same mistake again, no matter whether or not it's in vain

So, I flow this time about Jessie, a pain that's just a scarred memory
Just so I know to recognize the hurt in this reverie, this past looking glass cuts deeply
Enough with my long surmise, it's time to take trip through my memories of Jessie

Jessie was fifteen when we first met, I was two years older
I started out as a friend, otherwise known as a male pet, but with time grew bolder
We almost got around to my original intent, after I got around the cold shoulder

I dug out her secrets after awhile, all her life and sexual desires
I found out that her dad was a pedophile, and that women, not men, lit her inner fires
Her sexual wants were of the S&M style, but she wanted to be dominant, sans Sires

I never had intercourse with Jessie, but I went down on her just so I could learn
She was taught knots and whips from me, and she tutored me on how to discern
The finer points of stimulating a pussy orally, and control a woman's orgasm from fast thrash to slow burn

It's one of my favorite learned natural powers, and I thank Jessie for it everyday
It took two weeks between her thighs for up to four hours, so just so you know, when I go down I don't play
Often, I'd take her out, buying her lunch and flowers, but I knew it was fruitless, she went the other way

I helped her out in her dating quest, helped her fined the woman that would take my place
She was demanding too, wanted beauty and pert breasts, along with porcelain skin and near perfect face
Over time we developed a screening test, figuring out whether the potential was into leather or lace

We both entered ads into L.A. Weekly, I'd screen hers and she'd screen mine
I didn't think it'd be hard, but it wasn't easy, I'd meet them first and check for body language signs
Jessie was cool enough to do the same for me, and I was amazed how often women use waht I thought were men's lines

One girl approached Jessie with a cat doll attached to a keychain, and said with a surprisingly smooth delivery
"I'll let you pet my pussy if you let me pet yours"... had to laugh, couldn't refrain, It's nice to see that men aren't the only ones coming up with this skullduggery
And Jessie, with a straight poker face, completley plain, replied by reaching forward and petting the toy cat calmly

Not all memories are this pleasant though, I just wish that they were
Women weren't the only pusrsuit that set Jessie aglow... nope, life wasn't life without heroin flowing through her
She was once so beautiful, skin the color of snow, aptly so because of the coldness within that built and stirred

I got a call one day while working at CompUSA, A day that will live within me in infamy
She told me, in a cold voice to forever stay away, She tore my heart and soul ruthlessly from within me
If it was all a game, then I was definitely outplayed, left sobbing on my friend's shoulder in the middle of corporate indignity

It's been almost three years since I last spoke to her, and I still feel her absence cutting into me
I can't count the tears or the amount of times my eyes blurred, nor can I say why I continue to hold thoughts of her so closely
Especially after all the things that occured, why I just can't forget my Memories of Jessie.

-David "Dingo" Bleecher