How does it feel
to see me from a distance
in a dimly lit classroom;
my eyes, avoiding your glance
lit only now by the projector.

How does it feel
to see me wearing a shirt
that you once peeled off
and threw onto your bedroom floor

You're not there
to fix the cigarette
I broke
from his pack

You're not there
in my shower
as I kiss his soapy back

Stay away
for your own good
and for my good and his good

Stay away
with your demons
and I'll stray away like I should