I'm clinging to hope
like I'm clinging
to hospital bed sheets.
Scared. frustrated. Tired.

Counting the naps,
beautiful demonstrations
of death.

Counting the kisses
pouring off your lips
like ballots on election day.

everybody is ******
in the head except for me.

and this drought has
lasted long enough
for the crops to wither
and my stomach to swell.

or Redheads.
Crimson Irish curls
that cling to curves
like my lips cling to
your name.
Natural.

Dawn is breaking
and the symphony
is as silent
as our conversations.

The levee broke
just like our backs
when the world
came crashing
down around
our feet.

I've become quite
the actor.
Going through the motions
of the days I have to endure
without you like I'm on autopilot.
or drugs.

This is the sixth day
in a row you haven't
slept and you can
still taste the cigarette
on her breath. On your breath.

This is the first night
you no longer scream
into your pillow
words that you scribbled
across your stitched tongue
when she was still yours.