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Beautiful Boy Looks

At me as if I hung the moon
And stars.
So I hide my face in kissing him
Just to avoid his stares.

Having A Boyfriend

Forced me to realize
My natural tendency
Towards melancholy.
(Damn.)

Suddenly, After Success

All of the little ticks
And quirks
That got on their nerves
Become the greatest bits
Of virtue
That got you
To this height.

I’m Pretty Sure

That I’m only here
As a prop
For which you
Can dictate stories
Of your adventures
To.

I Forgot How

Much I hate you in public.

My Life Only Extends

As far as my cell phone’s battery.
My navigator’s satellite location.
My computers WiFi connection.
I am a collection,
A defined amalgamation
Of the same technology
They use to throw innocents
In jail. Patriot act
The patriots right out.
Of our here and now
To some somewhere
That Google cannot even locate.
I guess that’s how they placate
The upper/lower
Right wing/left wing
Boss of the conglomeration
Called “My country this of thee
Sweet land of…
(Please silence your cellphones)”
And my loving morning
Text message is carried
By the same invisible wires
Along which your
Late night porn
Comes throbbing to you.
I am not offended.
What defines our relationship
Is not another reason to end it.
But I will not send you
That topless-nude-bathroom mirror pic
So you can click away at me
While I’m gone.
I understand human need.
I look at these things and I see
The comfort
Of leash.
I desire your government purified
Connection simplified
Into “Hey babe.
Smiley face.
Hash tag: true love.”
I want this for myself.
This strangle hold suffocation
This social constipation
This status me a Google quotation
Way of living.
I want it.
Because I have not been raised
To speak when I am spoken to.
I have no idea how to say
The things I want to say to you.
So I finger/thumb
Swype/tap/text
My love
And they they call it
Romanticism
Or Patriotism.
Or Capitalism.
Or he can’t have one?
Rascism.
She can’t afford one?
Classisim.
We all need one?
Fascisim.
So great.
While I’m lying in bed
Snogging with cellphone
I hope you’ll get the memo.
“Leave a message after the tone.”

I Remember

Dreaming of you.

I Know You Want

Me, now.
You’re afraid you won’t want
Me, then.
But I never asked for
Forever.
And we could be good for
Each other.
So take me because I
Offered.
You won’t find an option
Better.
And I need to have you while
I can.

I Have A New Dance:

I dance around my room,
All sexy in my sweats,
And sing: “I hate boys,”
To the tune of my favorite pop hits.

And What A Waste

Of time loving you have been.
But there is nothing else.
Just loving loving you
When I could be loving myself.