Listen to the rain pour.
I mean- listen to the world's roar.
The wind; brash and arrogant.
Unseen forces leave strong trees bent.

*Lightening cracks open a blackened sky,
rolling thunder follows to say goodbye.

I crawled into bed with death last night
I let her dark fingers wander my naked flesh
She whispered in my ear as she held my bones
                                                           ­              I let her have me
I touched her lower back last night
I let death climb on top of me and cry in pleasure
She moaned aloud and said my name with love
                                                            ­            I let her have me
I reveled in her cold embrace last night
I let her fall asleep heavy in my arms and my dreams
She became my tomb, my grave, my other side
                                                            ­            I let her have me
                                                              ­          All of me
She took my breath away
I rode her into the abyss

i wonder if the doors in the house you grew up in
started slamming themselves to save your father the trouble.
i wonder if you can remember the last time you prayed,
and if you had trouble unfolding your hands.
i wonder if your mother knows
about the collection of hearts you hide in your closet,
i wonder if she could tell mine apart from the rest.
i wonder if your shoes know the reason why
you keep them by the back door and not your bedside.
and sometimes, i wonder
if you ever think about that night when i told you,
you wouldn't need to drink so much if you had me.
but it seems like we only speak when you've got body on your brain,
whiskey in your glass,
your judgement is overcast,
and you know i'm too weak to ignore you.
i learned how to translate your texts
from drunken mess back into english.
i am fluent in apology, but i don't ask you for them anymore.
this is just how it is.
it's not enough for either of us
but ******* it we are not above settling.
so i will ignore her name on your breath,
and you will ignore the fact that this means something to me.
i always thought the first time i kissed you,
it would be on your mouth.
i just wanted to be something warm for you to sink into,
something that could convince you to stay a second night.
but i sneak you out in the early morning,
and you take a piece of my pride with you when you go.
i am left to nurse the hangover from a wine i've never tasted,
wondering how this is possible.
waiting for the next drunk call,
for the next time i get to pretend we are lovers,
the next time i get to live out the fantasy i am most ashamed of.
it is the one in my head where you want me when you're sober too.

- m.f.