Cigarette ash on your bedsheets
awake on coffee and tea.
I do not want to be the person
you know like the back of your hand
or for you to know the titles of every poem I have written
I want you to touch me distractedly.
I want a boy with a car and a mindset like yours.
we do not need to make ourselves into anything beautiful with each other.
we are ugly, empty poets.
therefore,
you love me for what i am.
but if you don't love me,
go ahead and tell me.
your tongue stained with coffee
you're not just some ******* artist
who is going to fill my heart with lilies
and paint.
and I want you to make it hurt as much as you ******* can.
teach me the world is cruel.
because if you can teach me how to write
love poems,
you sure as hell
can show me how to be dark
all over again.
this isn't about creativity
and this isn't art
this is existing.