You

You.

It’s hard

putting down these

words as poetry because,

truthfully, I never found your

charming, cunning, inspiring wit to be

fair to me. Nevertheless, it relentlessly builds

up until I shamefully, honestly, adamantly refuse

holding the aforementioned words in. When they begin

piling up, I unmercifully suffer silently, futilely attempting to

forget you. Frustratingly, I remain tormented by your memory, and

suddenly the unrelenting, never-ending words pour out and out and out and

all of the mafia games we leisurely played together conglomerate haphazardly into

you.