Right now, as it is close to being 5am, I don’t know where my mind is at.
Writers are forgetful,
but they remember everything.
They forget appointments and anniversaries,
but remember what you wore,
how you smelled,
on your first date…
They remember every story you’ve ever told them -
but forget what you’ve just said.
They don’t remember to water the plants
or take out the trash,
but they don’t forget how
to make you laugh.
Writers are forgetful
the important things.
Do you mind just letting me hate you for a little while?
I’ll get over it, eventually, I promise.
Just right now, I need to hate you for a little while.
Because I deserve a moment of intense hatred for you.
Because I have the right to make you a little mad, a little upset.
But, it’s just for now.