ugh

I hate the way you breathe
when you're on top of me.
The way your teeth shake,
and you hiss between their gaps.
Brush them.
You smell like beer and weed.

I hate the way I get bored
when you resort to carnal pleasure
and call me and come over
and breathe that rancid breath
down my neck and across my hips.

I hate the way you smile at me,
and I smile back, as though
I actually enjoyed that.
In all honesty I did
when I closed my eyes.

I hate the way you voice it,
with petty moans and
whines of more, harder, deeper.
I hate how this is what we are.

Get out. Don't call me ever again.
Go fuck the other six, or seven.

Or better yet, why don't you go fuck yourself?