SOMEONE ASKED ME TO DESCRIBE
HOME AND I ALMOST SAID YOUR NAME
BUT I STAYED QUIET INSTEAD, PEOPLE
EXPECT YOU TO SAY A **** PLACE
BUT I FELT MORE HOME IN YOUR TWO
ARMS THAN I EVER IN MY OWN HOUSE

nobody ever fins
the one.

the city dumps fill
the junkyards fill
the madhouses fill
the hospitals fill
the graveyards fill

nothing else
fills.

autophobia;

fear of being alone or of oneself

The teacher tells the class to write a poem
Jokes on her, the kid in the back has already written over two thousand.

i chug the bottle
and look around

i see you standing
there, with girls
hanging on to you.

i scowl and ask for
another bottle, i take
the next bottle and
take another swig.

i close my eyes as
the liquid burns
down my throat.

i open my eyes to
find you sitting next
to me.

you smile at me as
if nothing was wrong,
when everything was
the opposite of good

but you keep smiling,
ignoring the glares of
the other girls.

and you ask me,
"are you okay"

i look down at my
bottle and mutter,
"im fine"

"are you sure", you
ask.  

"no," i reply back,
my voice cracking
at the end, "not at all"

he looks at me with
such tender care and
says, "im sorry"

i carefully lift my head
and turn to look at him

his eyes are staring
back at mine with
so much intensity
that i am mesmerised.

and

as if i was under a spell,

i open my mouth and
utter the words that ive
kept hidden for so long,

"i love you"

i walked in
to find you
with a cup
of alcohol

and a girl
talking to
you.

i step back
into the
shadows,

watching
you in the
distance.

you guys
look happy.

you look
happy.

you look
like you're
having a
nice time.

im happy
for you,

even though
im breaking
inside.

"you can't just
touch my soul
and leave"

i hate the way you talk to me,
and the way you cut your hair.
i hate the way you drive your car.
i hate it when you stare.
i hate your big dumb combat boots,
and the way you read my mind.
I hate you so much it makes me sick;
it even makes me rhyme.
I hate it, I hate it when you're always right.
I hate it when you lie.  
I hate it when you make me laugh,
even worse when you make me cry.
I hate it when you're not around,
and the fact that you didn't call.  
But mostly I hate it the way I don't hate you.
Not even close, not even a little bit,

not even at all.