I will disappoint you

so don’t come back for more

you did the best thing leaving

don’t walk back through that door

I’m full of bullshit, lies and heartache

turn elsewhere for sympathy and ads

I know of pain and healing

(how the stars shine for me on cloudy days)

only I can see it

up and down the stairs with bags

cutting out love with hashtags

who cares about the dead

the ones I’d like to talk to 

I don’t know what words come out

or why they do

or what they fucking mean

it’s art

fiction

gravy on poutine

so bad for you, yet so tasty

I can’t believe people even like what I have to say

I swear it’s on the fly

stupid mundane thoughts 

that I should hideaway

Plath would never read it

and you should never concede it

dreams are so vivid

how seeds are planted wisely

spread out all over my body

nipples can react to mostly anything 

cold, words, heat, you

the words I would like to tell you

mostly

should be the ones 

I would keep to myself

up until the day

I look into your eyes

and if that day never comes

I will never compromise. 

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