How does it feel
to see me from a distance
in a dimly lit classroom;
my eyes, avoiding your glance
lit only now by the projector.
How does it feel
to see me wearing a shirt
that you once peeled off
and threw onto your bedroom floor
You're not there
to fix the cigarette
I broke
from his pack
You're not there
in my shower
as I kiss his soapy back
Stay away
for your own good
and for my good and his good
Stay away
with your demons
and I'll stray away like I should
Written: 9/30/13