I’m so glad you’re too stupid to read my poetry and see all the ways I wish I could rid myself of you, or just this plague of love and what it feels like to love you even when you treat me like a piece of ******* ****. You’re a poison, you know, or maybe it’s just unrequited love. I feel you like you’re stuck between my teeth. A rock in my shoe. The dull of a tattoo needle. I’ve loved you, I’ve tried, but you look at me and see someone I’m not. I’m not all these bad things and I won’t stay as small as you want me to. I want more wine and I want to be in any other bed.