We wade and wait through the daily hate to
practice our fractured love each night.
We make and mate once it gets late, just
to have a day's worth of material to write.

Now you're the wet dreams
slowly rusting away my mettle,
and I just smile, nod, and
paint you a ****** portrait.

In the silence between dry heaves,
while waiting for my gorge to settle,
I pray to the porcelain god and
spit on my reflection in the toilet.

I venture outside then to choke on a smoke
and I **** your name into snowy leaves.

Can't afford a deathbed, I'm so ******* broke,
please just **** me on the loveseat.