the drug in me is you

everything is so volatile

in this halfway house

where we push and shove

until the plaster collapses.

you shoot up your veins

and i finger the needle

after you fling it away,

toeing the line between

wanting to puncture you throat

and lick the rust clean.

do you even see me?

between the hot flashes

and raging calamities,

do you see me as i am?

could i ever see you as you are?

could i ever see you as you were?

i pull you towards me at night

on the air mattress

where you lost your virginity

for the cheapest high of your life.

i retreat into the familiar fantasy

of a time

where your mistress never existed;

a time where i never had to share you

with this concubine of catastrophe.

the night always ends the same way;

you sleeping through the sounds of my sobs.

i hover my hands over your throat,

wanting to press and twist

until your eyes bulge and pop.

i think killing you might be worth it

if it means she’ll die with you.

but she never will.

she travels through your bloodstream;

i never even cross your mind

when you’re doped up

and choking on lust

for the whore who frequents your body.

you will take her to the grave

and she will lie with you in your slumber

whilst i live in hiding

from the ghosts of your infidelity.

all i ask is that you promise me one thing –

that in the next life

i won’t have to see her claw marks on your skin,

and i won’t have to soothe your sweats

when she leaves you aching for her touch,

and i won’t have to sell myself to bring her back to you,

and i won’t have to clean up the reminders

of the nights you share together.

it will be just us.

it will be just us