being abused sucks. uh. here have some vague minimalist poetry:
slate gray
I get bored
I get bored of you so easily
nothing but gray
it’s nothing new
the same patterns traced,
until it sinks in
teeth to bone
becomes a part of the grain
it’s nothing new
and I wish you would change
but you know I’ll always play along
I don’t want to
flinch and cower,
but I’ll always cry
when you get too close