One-hundred and Thirty-one: Drifting

You stupid, stupid man.
I’ve been biting my tongue so hard
that every thought tastes like blood.
My mouth is swollen now, full of
all the words I thought I should not
say. So wary of being abrasive,
so scared of being hurt, that I sat
so still in the boat of us, unwilling
to rock it and so, let you roll away.

You stupid, stupid man.
You don’t like that I didn’t tell
you that you were an asshole.
Honey, why do you need me
to tell you? I thought it was
obvious. You’re so dumb;
did you honestly think
I wouldn’t say anything?

I was just waiting to see you
so I could get it off my chest.
You were just waiting to see me
so you could let go.


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I drink, I laugh, I smoke, I write.

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