I’m suffering. Tears of gasoline, beaded down my cheeks. And Darling, your kisses are the firepower. You want to see how long I can stand to suffer Without speaking? Honey, keep preaching to the choir. I refuse to speak, In fear that I will choke on my own words- Infused with negativity and Melancholy blues you used to Sing to me. That subtle, lackadaisical smile That got me to fall so hard in the first place Means nothing to me now. You’re artistically numbing my creativity With those vacant eyes… I used to see the sunset in them, And now, I can only see your Tilted and twisted views on society And the love ones who surround you. You may be blind and wounded, But at least the old dog can smell That I am indeed, In heat.