i am provoked.
you're poking me with a stick
and i bite back, my pride
wounded and my sense of
being wanted is bruising and
bloodied. you make me cry
and i am filled with spite
and sadness.

ungovernable sadness. i want to
fall away, slip out into the
atmosphere. i pout at my
laptop screen and pretend that
it's you,  but that just makes me
sadder, so i just collapse
into the bed sheets to
wait out the hurt.

photo