Why?

Did you find my words and my skin and decide they were both tainted?

Or was my negativity in believing myself not to be a poet too much to handle?

Could it be that you decided I was a directionless deadbeat who pathetically still lived at home because I work on-call and don’t have a regular work schedule?

Yes, it has been more than two months.

And yes, it still bothers me.

You shouldn’t have kissed me if you didn’t mean it because now I end up seeming insane
still
askingWhy?