I could just devour you
like Saturn, but essence not flesh
swallow up your sour soul like lemons
lick the sugar off my lips,
a shot of bourbon, flat coke candy
I was like milk
and you brought in your bitter.
Now I calm my sickness,
chamomile and ginger.
Tea in my sweatpants,
in my cold apartment
Recalling the way your skin smelled,
a cold front meets a heat wave, turmoil
made me believe I was someone
that I wasn't. I loved you
but now you're just a picture
just The Scream under an angry red sky
a painting. Maybe a silent moving film.
Never a photograph.
Biting my lips to keep from screaming
blood is like metal
and the part of me that you were
is rotting and black.
Gore in an cheap horror flick
is sickening enough for me to drown in
and it just fits right now. It feels right.