You know when you’re like
What the **** am I doing
But you still do it?
That’s me; doing stupid ****.
My back building a wall to her
In bed when I just got TOLD
That *** again would have made the night
Perfect—so it wasn’t.
Me with a glass of wine like ibuprofen
And tortilla chips for xanax
At 171.8 which is unacceptable for a runner.
Doing stupid **** like echoing I love you
Because if you don’t say it back
You don’t mean it—which is bull.
Somehow becoming OK with
Saying things like I’ll get in trouble.