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?”
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.