a year and some change.

i think about you at night sometimes and smile,
i think about you at night sometimes and laugh,
i think about you sometimes and it gives me a hard on,
and i think about wanting to fuck you again,
but knowing i can't
so i don't.
but i still think about it.
i think about how much i hate you then.
about how horrible of a person you are,
and you don't even know it.
but i like you.
something.
i dunno.
it's not just sex.
or that's what i keep telling myself.
i think it was the way that you made me feel stupid
and oblivious
and made life more of an enjoyment
than a burden.
ignorance found its way
to strangle me
through you.
but i still think about you sometimes at night
and smile
and wonder
who.
just who.
is fucking you now?