repetition is a sort of therapy for me, I've found

I don't trust you, 

I don't trust you, I don't. 

I think you're too easy-peasily swayed by the fraying ends of 

dress hems, by the tails hanging loosely from the back of girls too

pretty for you, and by your impatient and italicized 

need.

I am ready to be swallowed by the massive curls of your body and

I am ready to have my heat (it's all gone to my chest)

recognized standing next to your heat (I can tell it's all in your head)

because the time it has taken for a 

face-forward-palms-un-clenched

acknowledgement 

has been ex-

cruciatingly

hopeful and

pain-

fully

trivial. 

I am ready 

to not be 

trivial 

anymore. 

But I don't trust you. 

I just don't

trust you

at all.