i wrote a poem
i erased it
wrote it again
and again
erased it

was it bad?
not really
but it just made me look silly
maybe more than silly, pathetic
and also dumb

the right words never come
when i try to force a feeling
until my fingers start to get numb
and typing "love"
is as useless as looking for it
face down on a couch in my room

i can do better, i swear
i just never do
and that's why i'm never with you
when all i want it to be with you

but you could also argue
that i only deserve what i want
if i fight for it

the roaches look on with interest
waiting for me to get drunk
and clumsily eat a burrito
spreading vegan crumbs on the carpet
which is always an invitation for the fattest fastest one
to try to wake me up by tickling my big toe