I, shrapnel in the drive thru

I, shrapnel

, --

(puts her hand on his thigh and I think of you)

-- ,

Couples kissing in the kitchen as I walk in and

think of you

In a bar

or in bed thinking of you.

I'm bored so I think of you.

I can't stand, or think, about me

and you.

I pretend I don't have tears in my eyes, but I-eeeeee

t's shrapnel.

I lie.

‘I'm not thinking of you.’

Crying myself into a salad,

thinking about your death.

Unfortunately into Oreos with water

wondering

why

we

Didn't die together. But swimming

deep in you.

I dive, turn away,

sleep on a floor more than feet,

or seat, I drive

Miles, Curtis, mostly Prince,

(And sometimes Meat Puppets)

crying, tears still drying

on my cheeks

-in the drive thru-