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.