I

i'll be honest,
I refuse to love you. 
my chest sits in knots 
even in this revelation
the would-be butterflies remain trampled
and God knows they fly all around him
im not sure they even had the chance
to cocoon, your slime-gripped words
of small flames devoured their bloom.
No. Yes. No, im not bitter. Im selfish. 
I'm greedy with want, a desire-is-me factory of production
I hold my breath with un-reality,
the fact that you are who i settle for
and i am who you replace him with. 
Let's not hold the truth back any longer,
I ask you to tender me with hurt so I may
exist a tender body, sipped. 
I wonder who i am as a person to remain
stuck, only in moments of being immature. 
you say a niceness. a softness. a blank describing word 
But be honest,
you refuse to love me too. 

II

how can i try to be sure with you 
if your sureness is predicated on omission
untruthfulness
you are so mean. so unfair. so so dreadful.