She said, This is the last kiss. We kissed, and I wanted to consume her. She pulled away. I leaned in again. She said, What did I just say?

I run to the bus stop. But the bus driver hates me. He never waits when he sees me running. Because I never loved his mom. But she loved me.

He watches her get dressed and he waits and he dozes off and he wakes and she’s still not done, and he says, In the end we all end up naked.

The guy next to me is a shower not a grower and I say, I loathe you, and I turn and piss on his leg, but he laughs the laughter of victory.

She enters the café. She’s looking right at me, but she cannot see me. Not because I’m invisible. But because I look nothing like my avatar.