Twiddling/The Shit I’m Able To Put Up With

I swear when I reflect on

Why she did what she did and then some

I swear it’s because

I didn’t twiddle her hair.

She twiddles her hair

All day. Everyday.

Nonstop. I guess it’s in a stim way

But in a compulsive sort of

“I can’t handle being alive so I will twiddle my hair and focus on something nice” sort of way

“It feels soft”

She would always say

Well guess what, I don’t want to spend

Hours of my day

Touching your fucking hair

I don’t like it.

It’s not that soft

My belly hair is soft and red and

I don’t want to get too defensive too fast but

She ain’t never noticed that.

She never touched my chest for months after surgery

Even recently she still hated it

She laughed when I tried anything sexually

All while twiddling

That goddamn fucking hair

Until it frizzed so big and so bad

It was like half of her head was exploded

I sometimes wonder it’s like

“Could I be her friend?”

No

Never again

The twiddling is a full stop

I can’t pretend not to hate her I

Have never been so thoroughly annoyed

Day in day out

For weeks and months

Why do I do this to myself

I’m never dating anyone ever again.

The shit I’m able to put up with

Would make most people go insane.

I can’t be trusted to fuck with attachment.