why do we still giggle and feed each other oily instant meals,
both eating off of the other's fork,
when we hate one another so much?
when we kiss you taste like two-minute lasagna
(more) that was only zapped for one.
there is something raw in our intimacy,
our insides are still cold and unpliable
but yet, here we are, secretly screening netflix past curfew.
we both know we're borrowing minutes,
like a second student debt.
still we like to pretend we're happy,
to hide that we don't deserve this.(less)
"What is this?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean why is there less than what I paid for?"
"It's light? Is it light? You're asking me if it's light?"
"It shouldn't be light."
"It shouldn't be light. Are you outta your mind? You have to be out(more) of your god damn mind, comin' over here with a god damn empty bag."
"I don't know--"
"I know how. You fucked up. How you fucked up, is you fucked up."
"No, you listen. This isn't a movie. This isn't a script. This is a conversation. This is a real, bad conversation we're having. We're not gonna talk like this again. You're gonna come back with -all- of it, or you're not gonna come back with shit, because you never left to begin with. I will have ordered you deceased, is what I'm saying."
"I'll get the rest."
"You'll get the rest," he laughs. "You'll get the tab, too."