The ****** broke, I bleed again you tell me to hold on, you say you can feel everything, but so do I. I feel, I  feel the abraisons, the scars but who the **** cares when my feelings are drowned out by the lingering smell of cigarettes on your breath. Do you remember when you told me about your son, who you never see, but ***** lies about a future family bore from me. My ****** ripped  and streched, bleeding and bruised.  You assume we'll have children, yet never ask me what my favorite names are. I love David, Matthew, Katherine & Audrey. But why would you care, if you don't stop to care about the words "NO", some of the first words we learn as a tot. When you cry and complain about missing your sons milestones but don't do **** to be a father to him and fight for him, that speaks measures. Thus next time, I will buy a bigger ****** and perhaps, I won't have to think about whether or not you know all these things?

Depression has crept his way into my bones
And made a home
For rent he pays me in tears and self-loathing
(This is the richest I’ve been in months)
Each morning he sips coffee and reads sad poetry like it’s the daily news
He makes a mess of my body
He’s such a terrible guest
And I’m getting tired of his shenanigans
But he has nowhere else to go
Maybe soon, he will pack up a few things and take a vacation to some faraway place
But even if he does, he’ll be back shortly
Because I am his permanent residence,
And he is far too comfortable here
To ever move out.