It wasn't the same,

laying in your bed,
Touching your flesh.

It wasn't the same.

All those months I spent missing you, haunted by the secrets you told me,
in that alleyway
somewhere in Columbus,
all your secrets of loving me,

it wasn't the same.

My skin didn't spark from your drunken fingertips
and your lips didn't taste like they used to,
back when they were all I could taste,
when everything tasted of you.

And you were sweet and frightened,
vulnerable,
giving up the pieces of you I had sought for endlessly,
these last three years, giving me everything you had.

But all I remember is feeling cold, Shivering under the blankets of your mattress on the floor,
and all I was thinking about was work in three hours,
and my laundry in the dryer, back at my parents' place.

And you followed my skeleton with your hands
and traced the writings on my skin, whispered that you loved me,
that I was the one that mattered,
the only one that made you feel alive.

And I glanced past you at the clock and debated whether I wanted coffee on my way home.
Then once the lights began to rise and you had gotten off enough for the both of us,
you begged me to lay with you and sleep the day away,
told me to hold onto to you and never let go.

But I got up without saying goodbye, and drove to work, smoking my last newport
never looking back at what we had been,
all those years ago
in a dark basement, somewhere on Susan Lane.

Last night,
well last night I dreamt that you were making love to me.
when suddenly,

you lit me on fire.

But I didn’t scream or cry out.
I didn’t even fight it…
I simply

watched you,
watching me,

burn
to
death.

I could’ve loved you anywhere,
at any moment,
in any other life.

But instead,

instead, I loved you
in the front seat of your truck,
when you reeked of cigarettes
and cheap whiskey.
I loved you,
with your slurred words
and rude hands.


I loved you
when you didn’t love me  


at all.

Oh, to be a flea upon my lover's flesh,
I'd land softly upon your neck and there
I'd kiss you sweetly,
Taste your sweat,
Smell your sweet scent.
Our illicit love affair would be for only us
As I lay hidden, quietly, in your silken strands.
Then, once your blood had crossed my lips,
You would be one with me, and I with you.
And no matter where my travels took me,
No matter how many lovers you would come to have,
You would always be with me.
And perhaps, one day,
You would brush your fingers upon the place
Where I had once secretly made you mine
And you would remember me,
If only for a moment.