Problem Is……

problem is i get sick of myself
     get sick of my smell
          get sick of my house
               get sick of the things i think
                     get sick of the things i say
                          get sick of the things i don't say
               get sick of what i like
                    and get sick of what i don't like
problem is i get sick of you too
     get sick of your opinions on things
           that you don't know any more about than me
                but you pretend to
                     things i'm sick of thinking or talking
                          about
                     that in your ignorance
                          just like mine
                               you seem to love
you don't want to listen
     and i don't want to talk
          about all the dumb shit i've thought about a million 
                                                   times
          don't want to talk about it
               cause it's boring
                    so boring it makes me sick
but you just want to talk
     and have me listen
like a goddamned TV show we've already seen
     and both know about the bad acting
          the stupid plot
               and stupid ending
i complain
     it makes me sick
you complain    
     it's better than dead air
          or silence
which is false
     i'd rather pay attention to your dead air
          from across the room
               on a bar stool
          as an innocent bystander
               or neutral observer
                    which i know you can't understand
                        calling me a selfish asshole
               but no
                    i'm generous
                        begging you to give your precious
                             attention
                                  to someone far more deserving
                                        than me          
i'm willing to meet you half way
     at the intersection of our mutual ignorance
                   over something new
          there may be some joy in that
               but that never happens
                    because our shared ignorance isn't a
                         a thing to be celebrated
                              only you 
                                   and your opinions
                                         not yet formed over
                                               something new
                              those are all there is to celebrate
problem is
     when i'm sick of me
          and i'm sick of you
there's not much left
     but to hang on at the edge
          alone
               in bars
                    symphonies
                          plays
                               theaters
                                    baseball games
     even then
i get sick of you
     for not letting the bars
            symphonies
                   plays 
                       theaters
                            baseball games
                                     be what they are
i get sick of myself
     listening
          and pretending
               knowing you'll never understand
assuming because it's about you
     that for me
           it must be about me too
but the problem is
     i'm usually sick of myself
which doesn't leave us with much

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