i never really understood why you smiled at me that way
from the frosty shoulder to the halved heart, i assumed you were
sick in a way i could understand

wasn’t aware of what i was looking for when i showed you
my papers, my precious bitten bitterness. you said it sounded nice but
really i’m hardly a “genius with language”

don’t know why i dreamt of abandoned movie theaters.
we’d tear the chairs and make forts, protecting ourselves from a vast
emptiness but really i just felt trapped over again

a valentine’s machine. you wrote to me, “you looked just lovely”
was it hard to understand that for once i just wanted to be ugly?