the thing that bugs me about the wall
is the dull bluntness
the way it feels used, worn out
though the ground it's over is fresh
and it should be young and hard and it should hurt
the corners should make me bleed
the surfaces pristine
but no such luck none of the above.
god i feel like i'm going crazy.
i'm sure she's talking to him and they're
having such beautiful deep and long conversations
and he thinks i'm ridiculous because ours
are so short and contrived and somehow with
all that's there there's still nothing
what did i do wrong?
and that part of me that used to be so rare
that showed up two days ago to no fanfare
and i wanted to kill him then and later i did too
but now he's back and i'm trying to shut him the fuck up
even if he won't go like so many guests around
christmastime.
and then someone else is parroting about
pseudo-deep bullshit, the wolf pack is screaming
and usually i'd love the anger about
politics and whatnot
but right now it hurts and i can only be angry
at myself.
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