Thursday, December 12, 2013

The Settlers

I wonder if they realize
how insulting it is when
you know that even when
they are with you,
hugged by you,
under you,
comes the cruel clue
that they would push you
in two seconds
into rushing traffic to
be with who it is
they're really pining over,

watching them get more excited
about short throwaway texts
than your physical presence
presently scratching at
pulsing temples beating
in time to temperamental ventricles,
I am like a thin stencil
being stared through
and smiled wanly at
like fellow subway
passengers that sit too close

why am I the obligatory dose,
the eager ringer,
ego feeder,
spending resources and spent force,
why am I the sterile stenographer
when y'all reading back the feels
for your stories in sexual escapade court
listening carefully edited reports
all the while cooing
"we really like you, of course!"

All I can hear anymore
is chortling and snorts
leaving me here to type
mad poison out of my pores
only to still come back
unexplainably begging to eat more
so when I eventually end up with
y'all again I won't melt under
such a incredulous and caustic source.

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