I am glad I don’t know any of you, if I did I’d have to write decent coherent possibly good stuff

poetry

You leave me alone in your apartment, 
 I feel dented, swindled, and hanged up like the abstract painting on your wall.  
 I wrap your white bed sheet around my neck , it holds better than your words… when you pretend to see Me as larger than life; you’re so snug ego-boosting me, and like an ailing puppy I need you. 
I fidget from wall to wall wearing your leather shoes and your tshirt, big enough to get lost in and forget that I am who I hate the most… 

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