smoke it on the daily
i do
and
i left the last batch near the window.
the only thing these days waiting on me to come home.

i have an addiction
and it all started
with
you
.

it is thursday today and
for reasons i don't remember
the exterminator is
coming

but i've been hiding out
in my hidey hole
under the patio
playing with needles
all day
and it seems like i have already missed him

he left a note on my door
telling me that there are
bombs in the house
but
i guess
it won't make a difference.

it's already a chemical warfare in these veins
and
nothing i'm not use too

closed into this skin
i won't let myself
out to see the world
too much restraint
the handcuffs are too tight
and i know i'm killing myself
but i also know they won't miss me

grown accustomed
to
this muggy air
and the lack
of
love in my lungs
i have

you can't
phase
the unphaseable.  

i open
the door and wait on the porch
for someone to invite me in
even though this is my home
and chivalry is dead.
sometimes
i expect my love
to great me at the door
but
we play a constant game of hide and seek and i haven't been able to
find her for ages.

the rain has stopped and
my vampire hands
have ceased to shake..
by the time
i
step inside.

the freshly lacquered linoleum floor
hits me in the face with a waft of lemon scented chemicals.
and i know now that
someone has been cleaning
but i purposely don't take off my shoes
and
this smell
of orchard lemon trees
is the false pretense of safety that
dances around my nostrils and tucks me into bed at night

this is home.
for now.
and
i
  guess
    it

  will
have
to
do
    .


i walk in a circle
as to not upset the balance of things
turn on the record player
and
find myself a chair in the kitchen.
only
to witness a symphony of
spiders
fall to the floor
and crumble up into
themselves
with  one
single
crescendo
.

everything is dying
and the air
is barely breathable
but i find comfort
in the thought of you
still loving me through it all.

i'll be sure to call this exterminator again
he really did do a swell job.
even took care of all the cobwebs  
on my bookshelf
which i haven't used in years
because its
where i keep our cardboard box full of memories  
hidden
behind the great gatsby and the
apocalyptic books
i tried to make you read
in hopes of you maybe seeing the beauty in such darkness
but you never liked them anyways
and you stopped reading my poetry
a long time ago
so who was i really kidding
other then myself?

it's newly November
and i hope it snows this year
i don't need a scarf
or mittens
because
i can feel your warmth even though you're not welcome in my house anymore  
and i can feel your lips on my neck
and your hot breath
whispering
***** little secrets to my skin

your hickeys we're love notes written in flesh
but of course bruises were your signature trade mark.

the thought of you calling my name
kills me
even quicker
then
this poison that enters in through my pores
and kisses my bloodstream like
an old family friend

i am not scared
of it
though

in fact i don't even flinch

after my experience with you
i am now an expert at dancing with the devil

i am brave
not fearless
no,

merely

immune to things that try to **** me
whilst loving me to pieces.