you say you
love me, want a
life spent
beside me but those
feelings are not
evidenced by anything apart from
words marked with
tears and
other woman after
other woman after
other woman, so
i love you, but i
cannot stay


about you.

you read my
silence as
anger toward
you, i am
never enough when i am
standing right
next to you, my
hand in yours, i am
too much when i have
one foot out the damn
door. you replay every
song i listen to, they are all
secret messages
to you. every photo is
about you, every
status is
about you, every
interaction i have with
another man is a
threat to you. shit, it
snowed on your
birthday and i bet that was
about you, too. hey,
this poem actually is,
though. about you. i'm just