in the middle of the day. Jack sings
while I wrap gifts, get paint in my
fingernails, no fake colors here.
you talk about me as if
i can’t hear or read. follow or not.
do whatever pleases you.
i’ll be here, listening to the
same ol’ songs tapping my foot
any time of day. jumping
naked on the bed. bra flung
over your tie. panties
long gone (did i even wear
them?) did you forget
i write stories? i invent
scenes, acts, characters.
did you forget i have a
problem? label me
hypersensitive; crying over
everything you say about me.
i ignore for a second or two
and then i’m running
as usual, you say. don’t forget
to bring milk, you shout
as i grab my purse and keys.
you’re going out like that?
yeah, and fuck off.
fights, trash talk
bite me when i come back
with my…
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