everything

of yours crawls under my skin

The Bends filling my body with spite

as I swim from the depths

of your sparse existence. 

You've swallowed my air:

a reading list, playlist, film recommendation

and spit it back out in the same breath as ‘boring’

that vile word 

my wounded pulse echoes in my hollow ribcage

like the too repetitive structure of songs you hate

intro, drop, bridge, drop, bridge 

drop

my heart drops

every time you call anything mine boring.

I can't scrub your fingerprints from my music

from the oxygen that makes my blood glow red

instead listening to you call my plain facade boring

my toneless sarcasm boring

my inability to laugh at jokes I don't think are funny

boring

‘boring’ you pass off as a joke with a giggle

and my blood boils beneath my skin.

Your smirks label me Stupid

corroding my courage to speak

with a wry smile I swallow like lemon juice

grimacing with the aftertaste of regret.

I'd like to imagine that who I am

deserves more than the label boring

your word, your vile word

stuffing me into a box of self-loathing

made from the shell of a flavourless, consistent person.

How I wish I crushed your sherbert lemon demeanour

between my teenage teeth.