lemon

devastate me.

here in the safeway parking lot, four fucking a.m.,
while i'm overcome with caffeine and cigarette smoke and drunk compliments and that oh-so smug feeling of accomplishment exclusive to eating only twelve calories a day,
as you toss an obligated-yet-subtle acknowledgement
in my direction,
before quickly dismissing this painfully obvious
adolescent attachment of mine
to a boy that ..me
or if i know
and
as the sun debates rising the next morning
i chainsmoke and burn my fingers on half-dead lighters
wishing i would have told you

"...poems"

-for the boy. i don't know if all of this is true or not, but this is the last poem. i promise.