you smell like irony and like
what it is to wake at 3am,
something inside of you
reminding you that there's a
warm body lying next to you.
a neon sign that says, advantage
is there. take it. and i did
not choose it to be you but i
wanted to keep you nevertheless.
saran wrapped my outsides as well
as my in to forever cling to you.
i was safe in knowing but not safe
in keeping and you slipped from
this horizontal-hunger and transformed
into something angry, aching to
always have a reason to leave me
where i lay. the picture doesn't get
any prettier no matter what type
of lighting you shine upon it. you
will always smell like irony and i
will always reek of defeat.

04/07/2003

Posted on 04/07/2003
Copyright © 2025 Olivia Weinkein