By the break of light—yesterday’s time spent in the city

with you was still today’s ecstasy—light shone brusquely

at scattered angles onto these blue plaid pajamas, while

all I could think of was you. “Stupid,” mother would have

said. “It’s fine, though, since you’re still young.”

Until the final memories of dawn, I waited for your responses,

I stalked your past, hoping they had passed. 

What would it mean to you for a failure to happen to me?

Why would you care so much about her when lying was her only sight?

Stop looking at me, you disgust me.

I barely know you. What makes you so distasteful towards me?

[Stormy] - [Clouds] - [Ruminating] - [High] - {and} - [Low]

[Deleting] - [My] - [Wishes] - {so} - [I] - [Fail] - {and} - [Fall].

Spite me. Hate me. Why don’t you pick up those rocks by your

feet and nail me in the forehead, by the temples? 

Jokingly, I made you mine. I wanted to see you suffer.

Why would I say that?

Did you really mean that?

What’s driving you so mad?