My most passionate romantic entanglement began with loneliness and hormones,
but it ended with a loss of the horniness and the alone part stayed.
The proof of my ass hole-ness stained and stenched my whole self.
Baths and showers can't wash it away.
I wept like sandstone seeped with ocean amounts of water packed inside,
just waiting to break apart and crumble.
The world held up a mirror to me and all I saw was Fuck 'n Run
(even having my genitals set on fire didn't give me a full epiphany-- I began to ignore it more loudly as time did what it does best. Luckily fires have a tendency to burn out with time).
I always saw it as the world is not with us, but I see now that we are not with the world.
And now I see that I have become the pre-wedding boyfriend.
Nothing ever stays with me because I don't let it,
deep down, I may not want it to.
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