My creature comforts
My doubts
My fears
My love for you
All the things
That make me up
Don’t make me up at all
They’re just crutches
I use to soften
All my edges
Because being myself
Is the hardest thing
I’ve ever done

Pour me effortlessly down the drain
As if I were expired milk in the morning
Pour me through your fingers
Let me flow away like slippery
Ribbons down the void
In your kitchen

In the sink

In the ******* kitchen sink

I’ve tired to cultivate
Ways to deteriorate
Without being noticed

Only let someone be a portion
Of your happiness;
Not all of it

I imagined you and her as
The fat swollen slugs
I poured salt on
And watched them
Writhe in agony
A recreation of the agony
You left inside of me