CW: slurs

I’ve never struggled except against the lack lingering beneath every leather fag in the city, they’re here for the vinyl poppers, they get you loose enough but I just want a boy who’s nice to inanimate objects and treats junk well, and truth be told I’d rather you die than find someone else because it’s easier to grieve than to change but I keep making new Hinge accounts to like your profile over and over again, even though you’re going to keep hitting that X button I need to believe in something because from the moment I saw you desire evacuated my body, I even started posting on Instagram again hoping you’d google me and see that I’m every maggot on the rotting log: I’m the mirrored flash of axe: the swift swing: the bicep flannel flex felling the tree at the dead center of all your trails: you know that I’m writing this for one person and one person only and you know who you are, you’ve probably noticed by now that after you added “Wants Children” to your profile I started to put “Open to Children” on all of mine, you probably know that I want you miserable, but you’ll never catch up to what I know, I know so much, I know that you grew up in a three bedroom house in Phoenix and you’re listening to Be Mine by Robyn on Spotify and yes yes I know it all, but please just tell me do you ever sing that song at karaoke and do you miss that house do you miss the dry heat the way I do on the foggy summer nights why not? why not me? don’t you want it all don’t you want to