staring down these last few
scoops of laundry powder
and pouring out from these
last few caps of softener
looking back a couple of
months when it was tough
deciding to unseal these
products in case word
came from that latest job
prospect now seems suspect
-- guess that new box of
detergent will be opened
next wash and a trip to
obtain fabric conditioner
is all there is left of this
agenda of personal improv!

A box of prescription drugs on my table.
It holds your name. Stating what is wrong with you.
Flaunting the details of where your body is
Failing.

You notice the hair on my pillow.
Shame.
Worried looks.
Anger.
I find none of it in your eyes.
You buy me razors.
"Do you need any help?" you ask.

Kisses on my bald scalp.
Beauty. Now we match even
Better.

If winning you
is by losing myself
I'd rather not play the game

I guess i'm too weak
to fight for love
that eventually ends
as the game is over

is this liquid? i ask
myself because there's no one else
in this room i fall in love with indulgences
never falling out again
i'm a loyal lover of unhealthy desires
if you can call it desire
then i can call myself a lover
of anything that goes through my throat
in and out, in and out
i ask, is this liquid? the bed sheet
is white, translucent at the part
where i lay myself
dry

For so long I've wondered how
Dreadful would it be
For me to forget how complicated
Things are between
You and my thoughts
At 12 am, caressing a cigarette.

Darling, you were the song to my music,
The dreaded prince to my long gone story
Of whatever happiness this world
Made me believe.

As I speak the words of longing,
My eyes wander to the stars,
Hoping you'd hear the hints of my
Bottled up emotions.

I am leaking.
Leaking with fear, self doubt.
I don't want to bleed
Bitter memories, ugly utterances of
How miserable it is
To love you.

I am spinning in one place,
Trying to stay, trying to heal
The cracks of my broken
Faith in you.

I love you, darling I do.
Even if I have bottled emotions that I'll never show you.