On call

Waiting for the tiles 5,99 a sq ft

trunk is open

boxes are filled up with all colors

of the future

zen me up to Buddha

he has my grout

in an abundance of worthless forests.

I came upon myself

while you were shouting

how bad I am at everything I do

and that’s when I knew

I am not ever going to get

the kind of love

I always wanted

so I write you out of my life

but you know every button

that makes me weak

my switches

to turn me on.

I hate this love

I am crazy

for cement.

I need no sky.
I am feeling worthless

please leave

my self-esteem out of this.

My poem is about 

how no man or woman

should be together

for long.

Moments are what I can count

on my fingers now.

Mostly bad ones.

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