Broken

I wake up in yesterday's clothes and I do not recall how I got here. Groggy with the realization that another day awaits my presence, I reluctantly open my obstinate eyes and I see your vampire face.

Can we pretend that we are who we were? Even better, let me pretend for a little longer that we are who I had wished we would become.

The world taunts us. It orbits at hysterical speeds. We hang by a noose, suspended without a swing. Like Eurydice rescued, we are temporarily free.

My insides knot with warmth as I inhale the breath from your lips. You taste like the turn of the century, but it is stale. And I like it.

The blackbird on my windowsill catches my eye, and he stares at me with pity.

The grayness of the ice fog embraces, and, for once, I am understood. A toothless old man with too much skin stops me on this post-apocalyptic street. His bent fingers curl into my longing flesh and his cloudy eyes prophesize my narrowing probability. I believe him.

Hate surfaces

with thoughts

of you,

its webbed

mirror-image

tangled

with Love.

I need to paint but the canvas stares at me blankly with arrogance.

Pit me like a pumpkin, scraping my insides with a cold spoon. I need a good cry but I am but a thimble wound tightly in scratchy wool. Deep breaths invigorate me, but with my morose sigh escapes my hopeless soul.

Darkness hovering, I cannot shake the loyalty of my demons. We play poker with dogs, but I beat them with my manipulating charm. I am a mistress to a coffin and the feast leaves me insatiable.

Lick up my spine in slow motion and choke my throat from behind. Tell me you never loved me and whisper words of shame in my ear.

Poison spews from the clouds and the acid begs for forgiveness. Looking up I am limited, nearsighted to Faith. Sociopathic empathy grows in my belly and I wonder if I have ever recognized Genuine.

Sweet kisses and comfort come only in twos. My penance for breathing is the memory of you.