My lover’s name is Depression,
and he clings himself to me,
like a ghost that still haunts
its old lover’s house  

I wash off my mouth,
but still taste him

I wrote him endless poems,
but he demands that
I **** myself for him
so he knows it is real

“I don’t want to see you with other people”
he yelled and his face turned blood-red

“I want to engrave my name in your heart”
he said with a knife in hand

“I want to consume you”
he whispered in a flirtatious way

“I want you to disappear with me tonight”
he said as he grabbed me by the hand,
and we disappeared together