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I just want to see him one last time
Not to scream or chastise
But to meet up with a friend
Late at night, after a long shift
Just to talk about life

Just like last time:
Six feet distance for my safety
Ranting about the storm,
Growing over the horizon
Washington mist hanging heavy

I don't want to talk about it
I'd rather forget your hands
And ignore my beating heart,
That sick turning in my stomach
Ignore those things you said

I could take your Wellbutrin
We'll listen to dad rock and indie
I'll comment on that painting I love
Talk about the job I hate
And say goodbye like good friends do

We could talk about your dad
And living away in Germany
About my ****** boyfriend
And all the regrets we share
Just one last time

But we will never meet again.
You will never respond to me.
You'll forever just be a name,
echoing the pain you've caused,
ever so indefinitely.
I hate missing the people I hate.
the feeling of art bleeds from my nail beds,
plump from euphoria, drunk off wine that's red.
i feel electricity within my hands.
some have only known it through ***'s command.
my joints swell with anticipation,
the poet's tongue knows no abnegation.
ready to send life through these tired veins.
let emotion take these fraying reins,
and pluck these tendons like piano strings.
hear the way the keyboard clings
with each stanza, each brushstroke.
what suffering could they evoke?
i feel my blood pump through me.
pelted by the rhythmic breathing of the sea.
these feelings crashing into jagged rocks.
breathe in this break from writer's block.
Strands of light cross my wall.
Full moon through the blinds
So bright it shines within
a city without stars.
It bobs in a murky brown pond.
Mosquito satellites **** by.
I'm enthralled by its loneliness.
In a city without stars,
the moon conducts the
in the streetlamp orchestra
Though it's a solemn life she leads
May she never dream.
May she never wish.
Long as we exist, she's shrouded,
but as long as we do, she is loved.
Light polluted love.
I feel my teeth rattle loose in my skull.
Fingernails whittled down to rounded stems.
But evermore is the vile spew of rage from within me.
Although my incisors give way for your beating flesh
I still wrap my jaw around your gullet.
The feeling of your pulse on my tongue is elating.
Feel the way it rises and falls with every clench.
Like a beaten dog I gnash these blackened teeth.
Forever perpetuating the harm that has been done to me.
Working to muzzle myself.
Tomorrow will be worse than yesterday,
and I surely don't care for today.
so, I'll spend my time just wasting
my precious life away.
Short and sweet I suppose
In his reflection I am inadequate
He casts onto me a veil of insecurity
Ordained with cheap mascara and gloss
I'm a concubine in the eyes of all

I play second fiddle to dissolvable filler
To bombshell bras and Facetune
So I give in to my materialistic desires
And I weep at my stellar mediocrity

They have recast my name with phrases
Categorized by a pornographic imperative
Petite brunette or ***** blonde
Our cuts of meat all marketed the same.

The rat race of womanhood has no victor
The treadmill will keep going
Only when I'm aging and forgotten
Will I breathe the fresh air of youth

Though still, I do not hate the other women
Only the man who sold me their lives.
I am so tired
Elizabeth Zenk Sep 2022
The waning sun at the end
of a dark withering tunnel
light bends forward to reach me
it stretches toward my shadow
lapping away at its depth
and obscuring the distance.

I continue on,
aware that I am miles away,
allowing myself to succumb
to the utter delusion of my
astigmatic mind.
The sun is going down,
and I will not return tonight
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