your boxers were on my floor this morning
i call you and pretend to leave a message
how you must have forgot them in your hurry
to dress and leave before my mother woke up
after i snuck you in my window last night
when in reality they've been sitting there for months
collecting dust because i am afraid to touch them,
to remember where i've touched them and you before
because in reality you are feverish with contempt
scowling at the syllables that form my name

it rained this morning
although it felt more like the sky was dripping with distain
i smoke my cigarette and make my way into the kitchen
the hum takes over and i grab a cereal box, a loaf of bread
overflowing spoonfuls of peanut butter and begin eating
sickened with myself and you and what we are
and what we're not and what we could be if you'd only let us
and suddenly im in the bathroom with the water running
i hear the beat of my heart in my head
he will never love you

you said you got all new sheets
and there were new stains on them
and then proceeded to nod your head
towards the woods behind the building
and im an old dog at your feet
crippled and crawling behind you
with holes in the knees of my jeans
a cigarette in the corner of my mouth
i watched you throw up blood in the sink
and cough like a man twice your age
i went home and wrote something beautiful
and tried to pretend you werent dying

my organs are scattered in this room
amongst the plastic stars on my ceiling
this house is diseased and quiet
sighing with every step i take so
i slip into the backyard with a cigarette
nooses hang where a swing once sat
i see a dead man dangle from the rope
my pupils are ink stains on my eyes
and the pen scribbled lyrics on my flesh
becomes a cancer and consumes me
i cut chunks of meat from my arm
and feed them to the dog

made my body out of birds
found in the kitchen sink
all sad and smothered
drowned in the milk from my cereal
and when you came inside me
you could hear them singing
and some odd months later
half ghost as i lay beside you
i heard you hum that sweet song in your sleep
and felt my chest become a birdcage
ribs whistling like whale bones
i opened up and ****** you in
to sing to me forever

my eyes are gardenias
blooming mid february
the nights swallow me whole
i eat like mad
and write like mad
smoking out a bathroom window
ghosts in the mirrors
spiced *** in the pantry
i unplug the telephone
and set fire to my backyard
the ashes look like snow
and make me cough

my room smells like stale cigarettes
a bunch of wilted flowers on my bedside
and so i lay them over your grave
in the cemetery where my thoughts go to die
the lazy afternoon ***** with jim morrison
and pete townsend watching us from the walls
jars of ***** collecting in my closet because
im still throwing up the milk i ****** from you
when i was still a child and you were a man
when you took your coffee black
and mine was almost white in comparison

i waded through your sickness
with ***** up to my waist
and found you praying on your bed
belly full of my breast milk
we shed our clothing and i cried for you
you ****** the life blood out of me
through the bruises on my neck
and when you slid out for the last time
i felt your soul leave with it
and for all the time i spent carrying you
i sprained my wrists under the strain of your sadness
my back broke from your weight on my shoulders
now youre dead and my body still aches