I Hope The Quiet Moments Haunt You

I hope the quiet moments haunt you
Like tissue paper moments wrapped,
tightly around this present.
The presence of what I present to you.
Half hell bent on what I meant to you.

I hope the quiet moments stab you
A million times like machine gun suicides
That last a lifetime
Frozen and still.
with your Netflix and chill.
I hear icicles in your echoes,
and exhaust in your mementos

I hope that during the commercials,
the screaming ads add fads
to your gleaming equation
Metaphorical menopausal masturbation.

I hope the quiet moments suck
With sticky moments that fuck with your
Fucking luck. And lucky strikes that stuck
In your laughing lungs you fucking fuck

I hope the quiet moments haunt you
Because my quiet moments hate me
Because my momentum lies quiet
In still and silent riots that used to date me

I hope that fate was late
and made darkness create and abate
dark shark waters that inundate you.

I hate the fate that we create
Is holding hands with itself
And cannot sate the same truth
That caught and cradle you
That fought and label you
Who bought and paid for you
Who sought and laid with you
Who broke and was remade for you

I hope the quiet moments haunt you
I hope the quiet moments haunt you
I hope the quiet haunts you
I hope I haunt you
I hate the quiet, hate the moments
I hope the haunting moments quiet
I hope the quiet moments quiet
I hate the quiet, hate the haunting,
And I hope the quiet moments haunt you
And I hope the quiet moments haunt you

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