after all these years, you're still
chugging the bottle to the bottom
but what you don't know is,
the bottle is a bottomless abyss.
and no one is waiting on the other side
for you.
your candied cancer lips closing in on my throat,
your hands
so elusive
like smoke in my brain,
like death in your touch
you held me and it felt like the return of a long lost friend
i made you coffee
i made you think
i made you late for work.
i was the only thing you had
and you we're the only thing that never loved me back.
so how many more poems do i have to write before you let me in?
how many scars do i have to slice open again
until i have the heart to taste you?