Of course I do not do these things

The way you want me to

And it is because of such poignant guilt

And such hopelessly hopeful romance.

It is because there is something in my stomach

That makes me nauseous,

And I have been nauseous for four years

And, yes, I have blackouts

And if only you knew what I've seen there

And no, I am not crying

Because I'm used to it.