I feel at a mercy to your kindness.
I feel bound by your love.
Its the digging of your pleasantness,
The endless ropes around my wrists.
What have I done?
Nothing but be me, you say,
As you admire the slashes on my lungs.
I put them there.
Why, you ask.
I don’t know. It never occurred to me
To patronize my fear for being.
As you are so doing to me?
You regret your remark and try to love me.
I wait for you to leave.
I can’t wait for you to go.
You’re the scariest dream.
The whitest light at the end of the tunnel,
And I can’t help but think,
This will never help me.
What I know is the answer to every question.
I’m not meant to love them.
Know their saintly curves
And above them.
You are no longer meaningful to me.
Shit on my thoughts and call me crazy!
Great job, sport.
Now wrap up your game,
Stop wiping your spit on your penis,
Because I’m done.
Fuck you, fuck this.