how dare you wipe your tears with my paycheck.
part of me thinks i deserve to be greedy with
my own blood (after all, i grew it myself)
even a bleeding-heart should be able to clot
every wednesday and again when it’s time for dinner

if you choose to destroy yourself i am not going to stop you
even if my shoulder is both your podium and kleenex i will
love you endlessly for who you are rather than what,
and if that’s not a friend then i don’t have any at all