fragility

I’m violent devotion and he’s fragile like a mirror.

He’s like a haunted nightmare, And I scream from pleasure. He’s gripping my neck, And I’m saying harder.

I’m breathing in the smoke that leaves his mouth. Grey for smoke and blue for his face. White and black for when he’s speaking. Colors that make my head spin, Red for the marks I leave behind.

He’s high when he calls, And I say, “just a t-shirt.” He’s drinking again, And I’m asking to be felt up.

I’m breathing in the smoke that leaves his mouth. Roses placed on my nightstand, and lilies because he remembered. Sunflowers and daisies because they remind him of me. Flowers that make me throw-up, Lavender is the only thing I can tolerate.

He’s just a guy, And I say, “Can’t you take a joke?” He’s somehow more offended, And I’m getting exhausted.

But then I’m breathing in the smoke that leaves his mouth. He passes the cigarette, And he’s saying I’m a little slut. I laugh, call him a whore. He’s sad again and not picking up my call.

When I ring again, I can tell he straightens up, Then I ask him what is he wearing, And then we start again.

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