Graveyard for the Unwanted

you taste like caution tape

that’s wrapped around

a long abandoned house

so dilapidated

and unloved by the masses,

only methheads and runaways

sing it love songs anymore.

you still

hold yourself up.

rain, sleet, or shine,

you hulk over a yard

long un-pruned,

pathways underneath

littered in bought kisses,

soiled syringes, and the aftershave

of unwashed bodies.

your form has lost

its humanity and become

a graveyard for the unwanted.

you curl your ribs around them

and feed them your tears.

nothing more nutritious than your pain.

you are a life raft for the forgotten

and your tenants devour you

shingle by shingle

all the while you whisper, “Thank you,”.

because their filthy bodies and unanswered prayers

mean you are not alone.

how sad that the only things that love

destruction

are the defeated.