play with your teeth on the edge of the fence and
bite down too hard,
smash them in, then smile like
'baby, it doesn't hurt'.

play double dutch with my heart strings.
tie them into a rope then double-
knot it around my throat,
i'll admire your craftsmanship (you're an artist, you know).

to dribble your heart on the pavement wasn't my intention and
****, i have good aim but i was never good at
the follow through.
my hands get unsteady when i have to commit.

twine your fingers together and then press,
press, press down until you're numb or broken or
always, you're always that way.
what's the difference? blame me.

i hurt you and i cry about it.
i didn't mean it.
it's tomorrow. we're young.
we forget.

i warned you what this was before it
even began- or maybe i was a
day too late because i love you.
bells ring. there's clarity. i'm bad.

either way, i'm sorry, Bruce Wayne.
we got too serious,
why so serious? distance and destiny
made me into your ******* Joker.