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-
