There are worse things than
being alone
And it's been a tough ride
but I'm starting to believe
Bukowski is right
and all this time
I've spent on trying to retrieve
the unretrievable
was a waste of some life
But, *******
at the very least
you're such a pretty sight

your hands
they wrap around my neck
squeezing with delicious want
you want me to submit\
and i choke out
the smiles
because all i wanted was

to be put down

it is a dangerous thing to do
to still in silence
alone with nothing but thoughts
and feelings
belonging only
to me.
how risky it is
to cut the world away
snap the string connecting everything
to draw the curtain down
left with my shadow
a
poisonous
companion
giving life
to sorrow
an unwise
circumstance
to be with me and me
and just me--
and suicide,
she purrs
along the window's rim
peeping in
at me and me and
lonesome me

you hurled my blouse
over my head
and my *******
ballooned out in front
of your lips.
your kisses were small fires
that burned beneath my skin
and my eyes rolled back in my head-
seeing instead with
hands.

the melancholy music
dwindles inside of my bones
hollowed by the
constant straining of limbs
hoping to feel something
other than this
unfailingly cold metal
kissing my tongue
gleaming cruelty
branding scars into finger tips
im unsure of everything
and most of all
i am a lost
cry for help
a distant plea
fossilizing into a future
of dead uncertainty.