The Fact Poem by Anderson Greenwald

I ask you a question…
To then realize that I don’t care;
The fact that I’d rather kill myself
On a stupid little dare
Than hear the lame excuse
Buried deep within your throat
Repeating from scriptures
That you always seem to demote

You said you were the pleasure without the pain
But you are also the loss without the gain
Like no punishment for crime but with no reason to rhyme;
The fact that I’d rather hate myself than love you in time.