This Isn’t Really A Poem But I Smoked Three Cigarettes In A Row Writing It And Now I Miss You Babe.

she hates showering with me

because i put my clothes over damp skin

itching to be hidden

quickly

just quickly

the white socks under my black shoes baby, i’ll still run just as fast.

how i sit up too straight in her Hyundai

and when i talk about you.

she hates how i make a home

in my mattress

as the sun is shining.

when i am alone

and when i am not

she hates my laugh

in another room

my sobriety and

the confusing poetry i write

with big words

and long titles

she hates when i am gentle on her

tracing softly down her belly

i love you

just shut up and choke me

she hates thinking of me

when she should’ve came by now

but her seducing gaze on him grows

dead

so she texts me

from the bathroom floor

as she starts to come down

but i am hiding in another state

phone dead

masturbating in the woods

to the thought of dying slowly

and taking her with me.

i ruined my life for her

and id do it again.

(she hates that)