Directly linked to you
I enjoy the feeling
Of cold pillows
But it's ruined
As I feel my life line
Tug like a little string
On the inside of my
Ribcage as you
Move up and down
Jerking my string
With you while
Another string of
Another women
Is in your tightened
Fist

Tonight I realized,
I really am alone.

Cooped up in a mini van
Feeling the tips of your
Fingers
Drumming on the back
Of my neck

I feel like Cruella DeVille,
Smoking a capri
In brand new clothes
Because Christmas
Just happened
Why did, when I opened
All of the gifts from
Family & friends,
Did I long for a person
To step out of a box
And wrap their arms
Around me?
To take them back
To my apartment
So we could sit on
The mattress on the floor
Smoking my little
DeVille cigarettes
And drinking a,
Previously unopened,
Bottle of bourbon
In my now,
Newly gifted
Star Wars mugs

I feel the resin
Coat the inside
Of my lungs
As I say,
"Do not mistake
Me being
Polite
As me being
A pushover."

Look for the point of contact
Savor the moment of friction
She has straight cut bangs
And a necklace that has a
Hamsa hand with an eye in
The middle of the palm
She blinks large blue eyes
That are rimmed with
Long, dark, black eyelashes
She leans her long neck
Her dark, dark hair
Swishes at her pale collar bones
She purses her light, light pink
Lips that have touched to many
Lovely red beating hearts
She puts her skinny fingers on
Your hand from across
The dinner table, across the coffee
And the half-smoked cigarettes
You glance at how the light
Reflects off of all those piercings
Up & down her ears
Her lips part & she says very slowly,
Pronouncing each syllable one by one
"Let-s, ge-t ou-t of he-re."
You throw a *** of cash on the table
Not caring if it's the right amount

"I don't want anymore heartbreak,
                  I'm tired of the sound it makes."