Last 3 letters of the spring

I never make my bed

I burst into tears when I am mad

I miss sleeping in your shirt

I miss “taking everything from you”

It’s been shitty 

I’ve been feeling empty and frigid

I never kiss on the first date

unless I want them forever

Or,

I never plan on calling them again

The anger has made me wicked 

and mortified by all of this bullshit

She never kissed on the first date

unless it was 

a match made in heaven

over nothing

My flight had a 7-hour delay

all of them were spent in bed:

“I need to see your face”

This life is a bit harder, shittier, and sadder

I  can’t believe the empty, the wicket, the frigid

She never kissed on the first date

unless she didn’t want to see them again

I am still obsessing over your words

compulsively playing them in my head

Is this love or a disorder?

I’m losing my shit

You were right

I am insane

Or,

am I playing the victim?