I hate the letters that spell your name
And I wish they weren't spilled
On every page of poetry I've written
Since the day we met
I wish your smile wasn't engraved
Into my brain and on my skin
So that I wouldn't see it every **** night
In images I used to call "dreams"
I wish I didn't need to write about
him or you or (your initials)
Because I've always hated pronouns
And I know I'd never be able
To muster up enough courage to tell you
Every secret held by my pen