Once a fuck, always a fuck you

So this is dream number...
I've stopped counting
though it wouldn't be fair to say
that I ever counted in the first place.

I wouldn't want to impair your trust
in my viability as a truth talker so soon
and with nary a trace of knowledge of
my true character.

Excuse me, I'm in rare form,
how about another merlot?
oh...
Sure, sure, let's take this slow.

So about my dream,
well, you were in it.
You were symbolized by a...
This isn't agonizing, is it?

I just figured I'd cut the bullshit,
but that doesn't seem to be happening.

Here, take my napkin,
you're tearing a little.
Do you have something in your eye?
You never cry...

except from laughter.
My my, I shouldn't have called you here
so soon after...

Wait, ok, here, let me concentrate.
Don't allow the furrow in my brow
to fool you.
I'm perfectly fine
and it's not like I committed a crime!
Ok, at least not this time.
Remember? You said "what's yours is mine."
or shit, maybe it was the other way around.
Ugh, I sound like a dog's whine at the impound,
but still, it applies.

Damn it, cut me some slack here,
we've stammered through this before.
It wasn't ME who stabbed you in the back.
Why do you seem confused?
I didn't USE you,
not to bring it up again.

That wasn't the plan.
Man, alright, so last night...

HEY!

Where are you going?
I know you don't owe me anything,
but at least let me say...

FUCK YOU, TOO.

Constellation

Our minds are a constellation
of thoughts, assigned arbitration.
Why do we insist there's connection?

We make this pattern from
where we're standing.
We made our own
intelligent design
of conversation, contemplation,
elation, and station.

We only made this pattern
from where we stood.
Vantage point, position
is our truth.

I like what it looks like from here.
I see you and me
and especially everything.

But you're looking for a change,
a shift. Well.
Shift yourself, and you shift everything.

Without me, you think you'd be a star.
You're right.
You'd be a star.
But you're not the only one.

We are all a common
constellation imagination,
shaping and shifting.
You'll never be alone
and neither will I.

No matter the pattern,
neither shape nor distance die.
We're all intertwined.
So you're not the only one.
...
You'll never be the only one.

Get UP

Get UP
Maybe it's easier.
Lonesome, but easier
to drift alone
along the cesspool of needles
you accept as so-called
simple-celled self-loathing.
Easier than to aspire to rewire
your brain to re-register
your experience as painful.

You know that annoyance is all
I outwardly feel towards you.
If I showed empathy instead,
we'd bed together
and you'd think I accept you
but I do not.
I'll accept you when you do,
but until then you'll confide in me,
go on about your inadequacies,
but your vulnerable face
isn't what I want to see.
In its place,
I'd prefer the god in you,
and that's what's wrong with me.

Get up
Get out
and I'll pat you on the back
for showing your spine.
Really, it's time to get out
of the bathtub.
Carpeted in fungus,
practically an ecosystem
but with no sense of harmony,
the spider on the showerhead
doesn't love you,
I do.