you cover your windows in cardboard,
flattened boxes that block the light.
i ask why,
but you are furious.
you complain about the sun
and the heat and the mess
your roommate makes
and the clutter in your head.
i agree, not wanting
to make you angry again.
it’s easier to just agree.
someday i’ll be on your side.
someday i’ll be convinced
that you’re always right
and that any thought otherwise
ought to be buried and snuffed out.
you ignore the dishwasher
so that you have
a burdensome chore
to whine about.
my pity stretches to you.
my attention is yours,
my tears and coweress
are derivative of your blood in my veins.
you act like a child,
the way you beg for attention,
the way you always need your way.
never thought i’d have to start
babysitting this young.