M.

Maybe if I murdered your mother

And stitched a zipper into her spine

And stepped into her pale skin

Aged with an Appalachia fog

I could exist in your world --

And zipping myself into your life

Ruminating inside your existence

I would saturate your mouth with my saliva

Moistening your heat with --

The richness of ...

My blood is sticky

I am a tightrope strapped with confusion

And I miss you.

Your boy will sail away and

Your mother stays busy

I want to slither

Like a snake under

Your knitted afghan of

Prophetic words weaved

Deceiving me and --

Leading me into

A false love borne

From faithful obligation

You told me the pool was blue

And they named you their Savior

Your demons are perched on

Your back Weakened with obligation.

I drink until the words are blurry on the page

One long run-on sentence continuing into --

Oblivion waits

And my flesh is thin

Like paper doll arms

Thin and tearing

And disconnected from

Everyone else ...

I fucking miss you,

And I can't undo this.