chew the shards of glass
between your overcast teeth
and promise me this time—

promise me you wouldn’t lie.

doesn’t feel too good with
blood overflowing in your
mouth, does it? did it turn
the ashes into putrid mud,
as well, and pour out from
every orifice in a thick, dull
sludge, confessing the crimes

tucked quietly behind those
calculating, glimmerless eyes…

does the crunching of glass
sound like the bones i broke
trying to convince myself that
your gaping lips are meant for
more than blatant fabrications—

does the crunching of glass
sound like sweet music to you,

the way it does to me right now?