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Sometimes I Am Mad

At myself
For not noticing your details.
Rather,
I feel you
As the air I breathe
And the soft clothes
On my back.
You are necessary
And all encompassing -
Not meant for analysis
And piecing apart.

I Feel As If

I’m knocking my head
Against the sky.
Then I remember -
You’ve painted the ceiling
(An old illusion)
And I’m just trapped
Inside.

I Sometimes Wish

That I could be
As selfish as
I pretend that
I am.

I Know That I Have

Something to tell you.
But I can’t think of what it could be.
So I lie here,
Saying nothing.
As if I am content when I am falling to pieces.

The Grace Period

Has worn off.

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.