I Do Not Like You

I do not like feeling alone,
Like every person I have ever spoken to
Has a face made of marble -
Bitterly cold stone.
I do not like remembering you,
Seeing you when the lights in my room have been
Turned out, I do not like
Tabacco flavoured kisses and
Never-ending apologies or
Tequila laced embraces of
Falsified ecstasy,
I do not like breathless.
Weightless, falling in love,
I am not twelve years old and
You are not from a Young Adult novel.
I do not like feeling on the edge of
Catastrophe.
Collapsing, disrupting, unraveling the
Tapestries I sewed to keep these
Fragments of consciousness from
Dissolving, I do not like resolving them into despair.
I do not like your breath,
Hot, heavy on my ears,
Your cigarette-burnt tongue, a foreign
Object splitting my skin.
I do not like the feeling of
Thunder in my chest,
In rooms full of statues,
You're the only one who blinks.
I do not like your hands
Against my heart,
Spitting words down my neck;
Your poison tastes like heroin,
And I am in remission, I do not like
Feeling you in my throat
Dismantling my lungs with words
You no longer say, stay
(I think I want you to)
Remember the lights in the sky
The night we first touched lips
Because I'm afraid I can't.
(And I never did really want to forget)
I do not like you.