Such a saint but such a whore

You're the smell of coffee
in the early hours of the day.

Sometimes I think you can be the sting
behind eyeballs after too many hours
spent in front of a computer screen
or phone,
and

the hitch in my breath when I can't
fall asleep because
nothing can be as terrifying as the thought
of you being with her.

Can you realize everything will end -
All at once?

I don't remember how it's like to
live outside of this feeling of If
but I like that sometimes you make it so
I don't have an If anymore,

even when my stomach
sinks
like lead to the bottom of my
feet so I
can't walk away
and

you make me want to pull out all
these stitches myself
because
I need to get rid of something


and it can't be you.