i ****** myself every night,
your memory being the weapon.

i saw you last week in my dreams and
you beat me with the thought of you

i stood still, covered
in blue, still
you never having to beat me black.

Do you remember the
night of cold; a thick blanket of
snow and anger frosted
over your frozen body?

i
laughed at
the complementing contrast,
and i beat me with my memory
again.