Dead weight, a poem

Dead Weight

You're gone

water containers and dead smokes on the coffee table

likely the lasting of love is meant to make a determined push

I doubt we knew when the body would reject and cause conflict

you hate me coming out and making it known

but when it's known?

You make me feel that everything is trivial

when in fact monsters haunt me, demons, and invisible strikes.

I love you when I sit out there with you and want you

want you so bad, away from the computer, and open.

I think you could try, try to show you love me

maybe you feel every other thing has been tried,

it hasn't.  I want things totally done on respect.

You ignore and put up a fuss if you have to hear it,

what good are you, Phil?  what good are ya?