Your fingers caressed the keys
like a gentle waltz
I was utterly transfixed
by the way you carried a conversation
I shivered at each note
the melody resonated within
You were telling the piano about me.

sharp was the kitchen knife,
dull metal flashing in slash of light
sparking further the embers of evil
that long had been dampened by life
lived in derision of normality
she was nothing but trash
picked up from a back street alley
£20 a time, yet fetish unsatisfied
hands plunged
skin parted
red hole opened, sticky red tide
flowed beneath full moon's rays
mouth opened, teeth gleamed
reddened, her nails clawed at him
as he clawed at ******* exposed
to rain of blows
he saw himself reflected in irises dilated
breath ebbed
slowed
stopped
kitchen knife washed and dried
returned to kitchen sink drawer

dense conversations after 3am      
   waking up at 9 to continue the same dialogue
                small talks
           useless talks
  smiling at the littlest things
        and laughing at the silliest jokes
                     hugs and kisses
    secretly holding hands
               hotels and lodges
                               fancy restaurants
                    cinema backseats
                            a 4-cheese whopper
               disneyland            
that silly bucketlist that never gets filled----
                            regrets
           achievements       happiness
     nostalgia            melancholy  
        missing each other only a few days apart
                missing one over the other...
     condescension         pride and humility
                    misunderstanding
             sadness        tears    
                           blurring vision
                 slowly turning anger
                       quickly turning hate
          pretty soon turning against each other
first apologies...second apologies...third apologies...fourth apologies...fifth...sixth...
                     et cetera
            and forgivess covered by more hate----
      and absolution...    
                                    for only minutes...
                  before pain.
         and pain               and pain
               and pain      and pain         and pain
   and pain      
              et cetera
                        tears
                    sobs
­                      weeps
               goodbye.

last night i stayed up late after the sun kissed the horizon's eyelids and wrote poems as letters to all my exs and some to my one night stands lying to them about not being scared of the dark anymore and that i don't recall the exact shape their outline made on my bed sheets.
this morning when the sun rose pink through my window i
did not lick the envelopes instead i lit the corners with
matches and shouted out their names to the walls in
my bedroom. my feet did not take me to the
mailbox instead i'm standing on cold toes
naked in front of the bathroom mirror
waiting for enough warm water to
collect in the tub for me to bathe
in. tonight i'll drink the star-
light that spills out on
the cold kitchen
floor tile and convince
myself i've never truly been
loved by anyone; that i've gotten
here by sheer force of will. that i'm
fearless and invincible while my fingers
fumble with the heavy pistol and my tears
write her name in the folds of my favorite shirt.
tonight is another late night holding sepia pictures
of her because i'm scared to go to sleep alone now. my
whole body hurts when i think about the new empty closet
space she left and how her hand would find a nest in the soft
crook of my elbow when we were walking anywhere or the fresh
shock of electricity when my fingers first found her fingers and her
fingers tied my fingers to my other fingers tight around her waist. my feet ache, because the first time we danced it felt like i had swallowed
a gallon of violent purple hummingbirds and my earlobes are
burning swollen because her painted lips aren't here to cool
them down. her finger nails found the place between my
shoulder blades naturally and i feel so foolish because i
gave my whole self to her but it was an unwanted gift.
it's three in the ******* morning again and i'm
writhing under the thick down blanket but her
velvet toes aren't tucked deep into the small
of my back for warmth. before i choke on
my mistakes and crush my fat tongue
with a bullet i just need to ask her
why

why did i lose you to him?
why are his hand prints on your hips?
why does he get to wake up next to you?
why can't i think of a good excuse to call you?
why did my right foot disappear when you left me?
why does his morning breath get to tickle your eyelashes?
why can't i remember what your nose looks like when you laugh?
why isn't my pillow as comfortable as your bellybutton?
why do you have nothing to say to me anymore?
why does my mouth still taste like a bird's nest?
why did you take my cast iron skillet?