Hand write
                   ( Hands right
                                  Sinistral kid)
Me a love poem.
                   (A sonnet?
                             Whatever)
Make me feel like a queen,
                   (Like Joanna of Castile?
                              I know who she is, you ****)
Like I am worshipped and adored.
                   (Like Imelda Marcos then?
                              I have more shoes)
Make my heart flutter
                   (Arrhythmia
                              Whatever)
And swell until it bursts.
                   (Be careful what you wish for
                               ......................)
Treat me like a princess
                   (Shanti Rajya Lakshmi Devi
                               I've Googled her as well)
And make all my dreams come true.
                   (I dream of a loaded gun.
                              So you can **** me?)

"No, just myself.

All I want is for you to ******* feel something".

So maybe you deserve better?
So maybe I'm just the same.

And does it make you feel clever,
For letting go of things
That made you important?
This feeling has to die.
I never wanted this and I didn't want to try.

It's not the gun that's the killer,
It's the bullets deep inside
Of the heart that is poisoned
And you're screaming all the time.
I'd rip my own skin off to make your feelings mine.

I'm not staring, I'm just asleep.

I'm not staring, I'm just a sheep.

I'm not crying, my eyes began to flood.

I'm not bleeding, this blood is ******* mud.

I gave you a chocolate bar last night.
As if that could soften the blow of divorce.

A divorce that hits,
With all of the force
Of things that came before
the last few scenes
Of this remorseful divorce.

I invited you to breakfast.
As if eating cancer inducing bacon with our children,
Will close this void.

A void that has grown,
As you try to avoid
Eye contact with the man who annoyed,
But was gravely ill
And took no joy
As his marriage became
This hideous void.

I love the smell of freshly signed divorce papers in the morning (sic).

Just straight repeats are playing
In the darkness.
"Beat me" proceeds burnt out,
******* wisdom.

Broken, beat-up, second hand,
Used emotions,
Carve grooves and ruts so deep
On fractured psyches.

"Don't you want to turn it off now,
Take their hands and give them cleaning?"

"Don't you want to burn the house down,
Gather ashes and give life meaning?"