i'm sensitive
i can't help it
words bury themselves in me and become icicles in my speech
i can't help it
you bring her up, my stomach fuckin' drops
i can't help it
my mind doesn't stay on one thing when i'm distressed
i can't help it
distress comes from nothing
i can't help it
i'm dumb and a fool for love
i can't help it
succumbing to jealousy is one of my vices
and the thought of you with someone that's not named jasmine anise sickens me
i can't help it.
YOU ARE READING
past oblivion.
Poetry"what can i really say?" used to be my words, when i didn't know as much. when i got older, i responded to myself. "everything." now, i realize that i can use my breath to speak on everything in existence, from dust on jupiter to the depths of hell...
