Can you be
Less of a human
And more
Of an ideal
Tonight

I want you to be
The perfect response
To my every feeling
Something
Abstract
And good
As immediate
And immeasurable
As a sneeze

Can you be
Less of you
And more of me
Now

You won’t ever know
The sore cap
Of my knee

You won’t ever know
The dryness
Of my lips

I don’t need
Your pity or
Your guilt or
Your sense of
Accomplishment
At being a nice
Gentle and kind
Boy-thing

(I’d rather hear you say

I bore you
Than speak
To a dead ear

I’d rather hear you say

You hate me
Than love
A silent thing)

You won’t ever know
How I exist and
How near

You won’t ever know
But I’m sure
That’s fine with you

My dear

You smell of sour milk
Marijuana
And no flowers

You sound like the sea
In the deadest
Hour

You taste of sugar
Cigarettes
And no sleep

You look like one
Of the thousand
Goldfishes I’ve had
As a kid

I wish I could make you cry
But I’m happy enough
Watching you breath

It would get me so hyped though, man

I’ve already got it all planned
Out so you won’t have to bother
I’ve been patiently waiting
For the hour

It’ll be something
Like this

(Follow all instructions correctly,
please)

You’ll meet
Another girl
I’ll let her
Be prettier
And even smarter
Funnier and taller
But she
Can’t be better
At giving head
No
Not that

You’ll stop
Replying
My texts
I’ll wonder why
But I’m too proud
To ask anything
Until I see
Your new
Facebook status

“The boy you’re in love with
Is in a very serious
Respectable
Stable
And most importantly
In-person
Relationship
With a girl
Who’s prettier
Smarter
Funnier and taller
But she isn’t better
At giving head
No
Not that”

I’ll be the cruelest
Meanest thing
You’ve ever seen

You can’t ever know
The fury resting
In me

I will take
One minute
To reply
When he says
Hello

Now I guess
That will
Show him
Right
I know

You’ll say
This is too much like dating
Without the actual pros

You’ll say
You can’t stand not being able
To touch me

You’ll say
That’s why you’d rather
Touch another

And I’ll say
You’re right

I can’t write about you
Pretty enough
Serious enough
Strange enough
Or even
Complex enough
To turn it
Into a poem

Instead
I’ll write you
A song

This is where the solo comes in