i'd love to have the courage it takes to tell you to your
face
as i hang my head and read this over again
my throat seems tighter than before
and my hands are limp like my lips and no muscle will help
me find a way
to say the things mixed up and choking me to death
with the sound of your laughter and the feel of your breath
on my face, anathema to my lungs
the last since youve been standing here at my feet
rattling from your broken ribs
hello, im here, so notice me again,
when you're ready, it's all at your fingertips
i'll tear you into bits and pieces,
skin is rending and falling from my clattering teeth
and i tumble through these sheets and secrets
trashed receipts and shunned advances
i'd rather take my chances on losing you for someone less
dangerous
like the sweet sensations of a sharpened razor
or another tissue man to get me through
tonight
my hands are shaky (my chest is tight)
i'm quavering at the thought of feeling (your delightful
task is breathing)
but i must pull myself out of this
car wreck burning bright (my heart is strapped to the
ceiling
and i'll never get out again)
your programmed speech
seems like software to romance and every chance you get
you'll yell
'jump in,' when all i want is to forget my body
but you're lying to me about all those things you said
and when you whispered to me
life is such delight
but nothing's prettier than you
my voice is fading from your memory,
but the smell is locked up tight
and when i say no and your relentless nature
brings you to some frightful end i'll say
'sorry for the extra wait, but i'm still not sorry for
you.'
i never loved you anyway
(so let.
me.
go.)

























a poem about a boy who smashed my heart because i wouldn't
let him tunnel into me.