I woke up to cold cotton sheets
twisted around my drunk worn body.

Stomach to mattress
my head,
a mess in a pillow.

Silently spoon feeding my affections
like the smoke that was falling from the tip
of your desires,

or cigarette.

French kissing your worst fears
became the adrenaline rush of a first date.

But still,
thankful that you came,
and went.

Icing, no cake to cover,
too sweet,
a rich lick of lust
and a cardboard heart underneath.

Oil spills into skies,
my thoughts polluted by your dizzy daydream
of color and lies.

I always drove backwards,
a hill and a midnight parking lot.

The condensation creeping up on us,
gazes drifting from street lights to soaked eyelashes,
every last part of you wants to go back.

But,

it’s like how you get into heaven,
you must die first.