THE LAST CONVERSATION

ME:

 how do you want me?

HE:

       corseted as you cant breathe

        with skin pale as you cant bleed

       thin as a barbie...

       lashes too heavy you cant see

       that looking at you

     I  don't see past the view

       you  painstakingly renew

       You

       my dear are a cheap clone

       of plastic and silly-cone droves

Botox enhanced and hydrogen blown

but don't worry my sweet tote

for that is how i took note

and remains the adhesive that we still holds

...FOR ONCE

Slit your throat

and watch red trickle down

the crevice between those towering mounds

-my tower on crumbling days

down fields of black sprouts,

bending to give way- surrendering

watch that firm steady gaze

waver for once -in near defeat

white turn pale red, black dilate glazed

and tears betray fear

as sturdy limbs flail and lax

now those terse lips quiver

pleading to overturn the inevitable

as white congregants turn gay

red cloaks creep slowly over their

saintly facade, filling ancient gaps

i will warm those purpling 

lips with mine and love them

and pretend to give you life

and pretend to perspire in sincere effort

... and for once

be the hero - tragic hero

return from a long forgotten battle

disheveled and unkempt by time and duty

yet victorious and unhurt

...from a duel with you

THE NEW I

I

miss the luxury of being mad

leaving crimson tear stains on ivory pillows

and canine tattoos on layers of lower-lip tissues

I
miss the purge of vaporized hurt escaping through my ears

the release on impact of my bare knuckles on a dumb wall

and the verbalized bile escaping the compressor in my tight chest

I

miss clenching my jaws till my ears ring

the exhilarating numbness of tightening a fist till it turns bloodless

or the perfect slap that manually overrides prior settings

*shrug*

the new I is too busy

....at the distillery

where every thing is bottled and corked