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.