I hate the fact that
you ruined so many things for me.
Every album you played
while I drove you home
(which made me late for work)
while you showered
(to avoid apologizing)
while I was slowly waking up
(much earlier than preferred)
make up the soundtrack
to every awful thing you made me do.

I hate that when the air outside
feels like fall disguised as spring,
it smells like you laying beside me
bottoming out after a night of Jameson
and me still awake from the previous morning,
dialing the numbers to emergency responders.

I hate that black coffee and marb reds
taste like your mouth
and take me right back
to that bathroom where I hid,
waiting for you to fall asleep,
because you wouldn't let me
sleep in my own ******* bed.

I hate that
I probably still love you
after all you put me through.

Confusion of the senses
I smell a burning lie
Listen to the color's leak
Fall out the endless sky

the noise the noise it hits me like a speeding car

the light so bright it turns me to tar

blinded by light and deaf from sound

I feel a ram of loss dig me into the ground

the intensity of the senses mushes my brain it flings me around and

around bringing me chaos

every single day