I tried to tell you
It doesn't matter about the metal in your hips,
The ethanol on your lips,
The molten lava in your veins,
And in your mouth,
And nose.
If I really cared about the halo strangling you and turning you purple and red,
Or the train tracks lining your skin through which you drive in
Pain and
Pleasure,
Or the rivers of poison that you dive into head first so you can drown your
Mind and
Spirit,
Do you honestly think my eyes would shine so bright?
So reluctantly bright?
Because they wouldn't.

It doesn't matter about the stitches in your heart,
The patches in your skin,
The zippers that run down the
Back of your neck
And opens your mind.
I can't see you falling apart,
But I can't seem to miss
Our pupils touching,
Not that they do
Enough.

I still remember when you draped your arms around my neck,
Your fingers tracing my lust and running across my desires,
Never stopping,
Never hesitating,
Always a tease,
But never a touch.
Never to please.
But always too much,
I felt your heavy breath on my cheek and your heavy pleasure in my
Twitching and
Writhing,
Twisting to feel,
But always out of reach.
I asked you quietly to say my name,
So you turned around and walked the other way.

False identities,
That's what you said,
Let's make believe that we're already dead.
But I've just started living,
Or so I try to tell you,
But still you hold that knife to my wrist,
And whisper softly in my ear,
"You can hold me all you want,
Touch me,
Caress me,
Tell me I'm lovely,
Run your tongue from my neck to my naval,
But only if you give me your life."
Too young too live, I thought,
Yet too foolish to die,
And still I submit to your blood-soaked lie.
Scarlet red crimson,
Blackened by your touch,
See, you've left me black and blue,
But the clearness is too much.
And all I can remember,
As you conquered my obsession,
Is how your warmth felt against my own
And how we both asked for more,
As you held my hand in yours,
And I thought it was fine,
When I held your lips in mine,
But it's not,
And it wasn't,
No,
It never will be,
Or so you liked to tell me in between shots from the smoking barrel.

And when you lay there,
Eyes closed,
Head against the tiled floor,
Waiting for the haze to lift,
And you said you hated me,
I didn't really hear you,
And I didn't understand,
Because then you said you loved me,
And it disappeared again.