I am in love with a boy
I can only really love when he sleeps.
Once he wakes and starts to speak
We run into trouble.
The way he uses spite is appalling and
(quite frankly) impressive.
At the end of the day we are equals of the worst kind-
Bent on destruction
of both each other and (most certainly) ourselves.
We pick and choose the rules.
Common decency means nothing.
What is common?
What is decent?
Why can't we just find a way to love each other that makes sense? (I frown)
Why does it have to make sense? (he pries)
But when he sleeps
It always seems rational and reasonable and
even sometimes doable.
Every movement, every whispered word, every muffled thought
dulled by dreams and expressed by snore.
Your breath is never regular.
You are never regular.