holes in my teeth holes in my
face holes in my mind gaps like in between concrete walls holes
in my future black holes
in my atmosphere and no one makes me hate myself more than you do.
mind airtight lungs airtight
vacuum like i'm doomed
to kiss you, will you return it?
i thought you might.news channels sleep while we're awake watching reruns your hand like a white shark swims around my shoulders possessively, you're
che guevara 'n i'm cuba, i've
fallen for another bloody revolution.
divine retribution is what you think you've been up to,
halo from the streetlight in your hair till rain ruins it all the same,
struggle to stay sane, the dragons that you've slain will always crawl right back with twice as many heads.
instead,
stay where you are on my couch with your mars coloured eyes rested on the screen listening to static like it's heavenly music,
keep it or lose it,
you've got my love.
i'm just trying to keep my dear head above
petrol coloured ocean of your adoration.
you've come to pull me from damnation, just to bring me to a different room
where we are doomed so prettily to rot
or sour like pickles in a jar
or fish, just where we are
is where we'll always be.
just you and me.
and sometimes the weather channel will chime in to let us thin
the content of the mind onto the silver light some other side of static, you and i are too
dramatic for this century.
just take a hit and smoke a joke and we'll be on our own again,
one thousand miles apart, and then
i wonder if you'll feel the dent
i left in your immortal soul.
enjoy sweet soil of your home, and rome
will never fall so long as you're its prince.
and i will try to rinse
you off my skin for good, or fill the holes you left with petty theft
of other people's time.
think me divine and love me earthly.
goodbye, forgive my crime, but you've asked of me to carry
too grand a weight
don't let me stay
too long, and do be gone
before i will get back.
let's be alone now. think it's fit,
to quit the game, to quit
while we're ahead.
let's sleep instead
one thousand miles away.
don't let me stay.
YOU ARE READING
cough on coffee leftovers
Poetrywhat the gas pipe gave was everything it had left after the car stopped running. mostly black smoke. some gasoline tears to evaporate from the ground. a faint smell of regret.