One-hundred and Twenty-nine: Bullshit

Did you really think I didn’t know?
My heart has been a sailor’s knot,
fragile with history already, but
not ready to break, not now, not
ever. I hear your words float
down the phone, empty as bubbles,
and when they pop, the air fills
with bullshit. Chemistry is a
science; there is no room for
opinion. This is what I tell
my students. Perhaps I am full
of more bullshit than I thought.
Or maybe you’re just another
asshole, unreliable as the next.

The irony is that I was preparing
to get angry. I just didn’t want
to upset you while you had exams.
I want you; you failed me. And
You’re exactly the type of man
who will fall in love with someone
like me circa five years ago.  And
she and I will break your heart.
And you will hate women. And,
eventually, you will want someone
like me circa now. Except it won’t
be me. You have to admit that
the chemistry just wasn’t there.
Dude, either I’m deluded or you’re
a liar. On any other subject I’d
opt for the latter but this is just


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

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