arguing the elegy

and what if i want to be lonely?

what if beneath my cracking flesh

i am a fever pitch of radiation and ooze

burning the fingers that lay upon me,

no matter how gentle the touch.

what if i am volatile and caked in rust

vaccinate yourself against me

because i can coat the lungs

and i am just enough nicotine to ruin

every last stretching second of sobriety.

good god, what if you're wrong about me

what good am i to the love gifted freely

when the poison of my smile ruins it

indefinitely.

it would be better just to be lonely

and burn away whatever's left of me.