maybe I did find him for the wrong reasons
but by the time I looked up we had been living together for three months
& by then you get comfortable and believe time will heal all wounds
because of the love thing.

The love thing that forces you to talk about the same shit
over & over until it seems scripted
bearing in mind I'm more of an improve kind of guy.

But you swallow down your own puke and answer anyway
"I love every part of you; of course I'm still attracted to you;
no I don't want to change you..."

scripted:
until its stale
like cigarette butts from a party two weeks back.
just the carrion remains-

But you swallow down your own puke and love anyway
because what if this is as good as it gets
"I just need you to be a little more attentive
and not be a million fucking miles away"
Though its the only place I know how to be.

Always somewhere else-
self traveling through planes of the mind.
and no my mind aint that unique,
its just familiar
and doesn't remind me I'm already on my third beer.

& maybe I am into myself-
you should be too.
and give me a chance to exhale
while you take a moment to fulfill your needs outside of me.