I flinch
every time I see you
with her,
especially when your
happiness
is a billboard
displayed on your face.
She’s thin
and blonde
and beautiful,
the exact opposite of me
in every possible way.
I’m not jealous.
There isn’t a word
for the feeling I get
when I think about
you with her.
Nausea comes close.
But I know
that she doesn’t
love you like I could.
And I know I could
make you happier,
that I’d be better for you
than her.
Is that
arrogance
or
self-confidence
or
simply mental illness?
Follow us on social media:
RELEASES POSTS
You could level me, body and soul, with only your eyes. I wish you’d just look at me.
Give me all the soft men. Give me all the men written by women. I want construction workers who attend group therapy. I want lumberjacks who hide their faces against their buddy’s shoulder during the climax of a horror movie. I want burly, biker-looking dudes who openly cry during Steel Magnolias or when they stub…
Contact us
Ready to bring your story to life? Reach out we’re all
about striking visuals and unforgettable moments.