HIS AGONY

I wrote this like I’m writing to you, hoping it’d come out better, come out wetter, what I’m saying is it’s an outcry, not a poem.

I’m spitting blood on the pages of this one, but that’s just because I’ve been grinding teeth when I should be asleep, did you know she skipped the lightning storm to watch a liar say forever, did you know she laughed when you set down the grief?

I want you to take me to the edge of the leather seats, I want you to wrap my skin in vines, I want you to cup my palms and watch the way we fill.

Did you know she had her hair tucked behind the ear, did you know she tore the photo from the wall?

I want to tell you to stay outside, I want to tell you not to pull back the curtain, I want you to rub the cotton raw while you leak from every scene.

Did you know she watched the foot slip on the ice, did you know she had the empty glass licked?

I want you to take me to the water, I want you to take me to the deep, I want you to take me to the dark, I want you to take me someplace where we burn bright as heat, I want to sweat out like the cigarette singeing fingers, drop me in the sheets, skin seeping out the old wounds, my dress buckling, lungs failing.

I watch us drowning ourselves to sleep.