By K. R. Taylor

i don’t know what’s wrong with me / but i do know my toothpaste isn’t quite empty / but i can’t get any of it out / and it makes me so mad / because i know there’s more / there is more / maybe if i squeeze it a different way / or cut it and scrape it out / maybe i can finally not just waste it / due to my impatience / i called my mom about the toothpaste / and she laughed / she told me there’s something wrong with me / and yes there is / it's the toothpaste / it’s not quite empty / but i can’t get it out / 
i begged her to understand / i know i am ridiculous / 
i haven’t cried in months / and here i am 	
              crying over toothpaste / 
              but why would i throw it away 
                            if it isn’t actually empty / 
                                         why is it so hard to get it out / 
                            when i know 
                                         there is something left /
                                                         there is 
                                                                      something left / 
                                     but i can’t get it out /
                                                                                        it’s all going to waste / 

                                                                        the fucking toothpaste.