I’m not a love poem

 

a box of tissue

on my bed,

vibrator

in hand,

batteries

fucked out

dead ~

 

thunder storms

inside

my cravers cave

weep

in cum-misery ~

 

no more late night

w/ Jay Leno

replaced by

narcissistic Friends,

’cause you called it quits,

I want to

slit my wrists,

lights out

at ten ~

 

in the morning,

anti~valium in my head,

decaf wine in one hand,

texting you w/ the other:

 

‘I never said I was a love poem’

 

hit send ~

 

it’s sunny outside

w/ rain

wilting roses.

 

 

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