escapril

parasitic: i'll be your late night snack you'll be my last meal

there is nothing to compare the two of us
you with your sports news
and me with my art history
except for our hunger
in my sleep i writhe and scratch like a dog
out out
moaning for the pleasure of my own company
and wake up with my own flesh and blood on my hands and your name on my lips
but i want you to
set up your little camp in my bones
help yourself to my marrow, good sir
there is no fight left in me
but you are no more a flea than i am a larvae
yet we're crawling over each other and consuming what we can
i call it love and you call it talking
and we eat each other up till we're gone
like two extremes
canceling each other out