I can give you balloons
filled with exhaled
oxygen.
They look pretty
in pictures
but they don't
float.

I have a squid in my belly
and she likes to be fed
filtered cigarettes
and whatever *****'s on sale.
When she's good
I'll treat her with
a couple lines off the table,
but I never use mirrors
because she's never good
until two in the morning
when she's all liquored up
and I'm not looking my best.
These days I'm pretty fed up
with her *******, because
sometimes she'll stretch a tentacle
through my esophagus
and pry open my painted lips
and reach out to whoever's closest
and go for their neck.
I try to swallow her back down
to protect everyone
but she's a tough broad
and it's hard to tame a creature
when you're not sure
where she ends
and you begin.

they tell me
not to think about
what ifs, and
they tell me
i should focus on
myself, but
they don't get
that's exactly what
i'm doing,

because

if something
happens, i need to
brace myself.
they tell me
they will be there if
i hurt, but
i tell me
i will be alone,
so alone.

Curing my depression
cured my alcoholism
which cured my creativity
which cured my happiness
which cured my sobriety
and then nothing

"You're on your way
to the grave,"
he sighed,
caressing her breast
and nuzzling her skin.

"We all are,"
she murmured,
and shoved him aside
as she raised herself off the bed
and turned to leave him behind.

He lept from the sheets
and grabbed her long hair,
yanking her to the mattress
before she could escape.
Climbing on top of her,
he stared at her body
and ate her soul with his eyes
until she had none to consume.
He slowly leaned down
and drank in her weak breath,
exhaling it out in a strong sour kiss.
She trembled, and then,
she could tremble no more,
and learned not to breathe,
and grew silent as he thirsted.

He cut the quiet
with a snicker,
and flashed a wicked red grin,
whispering into her dull lips,
"But I know a shortcut."

I passed a woman
walking her dog,
and I smiled at her,
and she didn't smile back.
And as I walked on, I realized
I never really smiled.
Just parted my dry lips
in an O.

I looked to my feet
and saw an earthworm,
lying in the middle
of the sidewalk.
Dead and dried
from the sun.
And I thought to myself,
He is so exposed.

And I heard a dry laugh,
and it was my own.

I have forgotten
how to kiss,
but might revisit
making love
to the switchblade
in my purse.