it’s poetry, baby


i come to you an oversized
ball of pretense
you think flies may be following me
my falling weight is just too
much for your bed springs
you can smell that i am drunk on
i burpingly lean to you
cold outside but cowering within
and vomit to you my innermost desires
of things that just cannot be
i talk to you like i am actually hunched
over a toilet
sometimes as my spine curls
it’s just thin air
and others it’s what i’ve ate
often you see blood come out

i know,
i don’t know why
you can’t stop
letting me in

i bring my head up and groan and you catch for a moment a shadow that looks healthy and young kind of like what i looked like before but then i waver and fall upon you mouth wide sucking on your skin sloppy drunk and smelling now of a mixture of disgusting neglected emotions and you know now that i am after that waterfall of validation that lies between your blank white pages

when i am sated
and i roll off you
you count the seconds
until i am asleep
and relish in the silence
who loved you before
and loves you still.

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