vex
(9.30.20)

out of the corner of my eye i see your hands run through your hair
i dared myself not to look at you but you're so pretty, it's unfair
recurring thoughts i'm trying to convince are meaningless
you got in my head, are you happy?
you've made me out to be a fool

every look i manage is like a stab with a kitchen knife
my augmenting vexation on account of gradual superfluous strife
ruthless stinging words delivered without apology