A forced poem

A forced poem;

Spat on the screen;
smudged each line -
some wordly incline,
smashing in the slime.

the love is oozing,
every stanza is losing;
eventual etches are bruising,
but the love IS oozing,
it's there to drink evermore,
my thoughts, my hands
screaming at you like spores.

eight paws and a roof,
shared beds; angry heads,
toilet paper, the milk
the only real proof;

a forced poem,
is spit. it's grime,
it's the etching of a mind,
but the hands together;
the nights forever,
your head on my shoulder,
our lives make better rhymes.

sean, 2016