at least these few more months,
you could love me until then.
can you at least pretend

i can feel your itch to crash the car
from the passenger’s seat,
you don't have to say anything.
don’t wait until you drop me off.
id rather hurt with you

you tear cuticles off
while i beg you to stay without words
you don’t listen
there's no point in pretending if you're leaving anyway,
it’s never enough
there’s no one left

i think of you in bloom