you smell like liquor and licorice;
like flesh and rotted brains.
your mind such mush but your
flesh still fine
to satisfy the feeder fish,
bred
and kept
for nothing
more than to to perpetuate
something that,
without them,
would be dead.

the maggots feed your wettest dreams
and whiskey lullabies;
I wish I could go back,
back to when you knew nothing of
the liquid flame,
back before any flame,
gaseous or fluid,
had touched any of our lips,
and hold you.
hold you and tell you that everything is going to be okay
because for some reason,
I still believe you are salvageable,
though I know for a fact
you are far beyond saving.
I still like to perpetuate the idea of romance
and the idea that, had we
ended up together,
things would be different,

she turns up the music to drown out
the silence
this song is so stupid
you say as you sing along
I don’t even actually like this song
you keep singing
you can change it now
it changes to a song that I loved
since childhood
and I want to cry
because it was so long ago