account total: $1912.92

i already work a 9 to 5
to pay my rent and cigarette cravings
that pops kernels in my chest
and burns my knees
but that pain
was a needle's *****
compared to not having you
by my side

of course
love was more than pocket change
so i bought you a plane ticket (-six hundred dollars)
and the fastest booked train ticket (-ten dollars)
to see you

on our date
we had sushi (-twenty five dollars) and drank merlot (-twelve dollars)
our intoxication engulfed the best of us
and we made love in the back of my chevy until the morning hit

our souls intertwined
to be one being
after work
i used to buy you flowers (-eight dollars)
tied with ribbons
that matched your favorite yellow sweater

some nights
our stove light would burn away and need repair (-three hundred and twenty dollars)
so we would bus down edgewood road (-four dollars and forty-two cents)
to get ourselves takeout at seven pm (-fifteen dollars)
then sit on a bench in the mall while we licked ice cream off our fingers (-six dollars and fifty cents)
i would reach into my coat
and light a cigarette from the pack (-nine dollars)
for us to share

we used to sit and talk about life
the drugs we tried
the theories of aliens that roamed the galaxies
our passion and sadness
rolled into one blunt of conversation
that we used to occasionally share in highschool

if life gave me lemons
i would buy you an orchard to pass-through
i would buy you your favorite shampoo (-fourteen dollars)
and watch the suds crawl down your back while i brushed my teeth
every tuesday morning

we would make breakfast from last night's grocery shopping (-one hundred thirty-two dollars)
and listen to the sounds of the city
that shouted outside our 2 bedroom apartment
that only i pay for
and it caused us to stay awake and scream until we numbed the burning in our lungs with the sounds of *******
trying to find the music in all this anger
for i couldn't feed you the foods you wished to dine upon
or fetch the duvet you hoped to be sprawled whoreishly upon our fading mattress that smushed our boxspring

but sometimes
the *** wouldn't help
and you would come home with wads of one-dollar bills
crumpled up in your pockets
and it makes me wonder if my love no longer sells for you
sometimes
our anger spills in copious drops of alcohol (-37 dollars)
and crashes into shards of fine (-300 dollar) china my mother bought to brighten the rooms
sometimes
i find myself waking up to an empty bedside
with you curled up on my couch with hair knotted on your head
and (-10 dollar) mascara staining your face like coffee flowing from the lips of my ***

because i don't have enough money to give to soothe your soul
for loving you is a fortune
that turned dollars into pocket change to drop on the streets

and the bank came in with a statement that fined you the money you owed my account
so you packed your (-400 dollar) suitcases and fled with the glass of my heart still pricked within your palms
and the receipts of cash licking my doorstep clean

because loving you is expensive

account total: $10

Bound to a boxspring
With scars on her legs and feet
Eyes adjusting to the light
The faint glow of day warm and sweet

I had never seen wings so silken
Like sheets of cashmere doused in flame
With arms open wide, tied
As if she were a part of the old bed frame

I ask her for her name
As though she would remember vividly
Eight long weeks in the dark
She croaks “sorrow” timidly