hockey, faggotry, mental illness

jokke’s

I don’t know why I thought I would get anywhere with you.

You’re leap years older than me,

yet you act like a selfish child.

Then maybe, I thought, maybe if I told your girlfriend,

that you cheated on her, with me,

and with so many other bodies,

she would see you differently.

Maybe I could get closure.

But she didn’t care at all.

And she still loves you.

I miss the warmth of your body,

your soft hair in my hands,

my fingers tracing over your skin.

I miss the idea of intimacy,

smelling weird in the morning,

grumbling about how loud I snore.

What the hell is wrong with me?

What the fuck is wrong with you?