We are
absolutely
toxic
for each other,
but I
don't mind.

Tonight, on the roof
You told me about
The cones behind your irises
And how they turned
Your greens to grays.
And I almost told you
That I knew exactly what that felt like.

I write with
the dull thud of fingers tapping
against my twin children
the fear of failure and
the fear of rejection
always learning not to care for anything
except for the sliding roll of words
against my tongue
so here I am
hello poetry dot com
I write this as an act of passionate indifference