I can’t leave a room like you can
so no-one notices.
i soil the moment
blow the candle b/ween us
when i’m speaking.
no-one hates me
i could step on shit, walk it on the carpet
& it wouldn’t matter.
i’m only 50 & my cousin’s son is dead already 2 years.
who’s more desolate, lonely; likely to kill themselves 1st ?
me or you.