I don’t like how you wink at me.
I don’t like how you touch me.
I don’t like the things you say to me.
And I hate that you don’t love me.
If there’s anything I want,
it’s everything but this.
But everything I want
is something I will not miss.
When the yellow of the morning
comes peaking in through my lids.
When the reality of your whirlwind
finally sets in.
I long for nothing but the strength
to erase all that you’ve said.
I long for nothing but the courage
to make my way into your bed.