Dry-heaving melodies, I'm singing you to sleep. I'm retching with the wretched in the faint glow of the streetlight. Torrid and tormenting echoes of lamenting all the nights I spent reflecting shadows of myself. Sometimes I wonder if you ever saw my face. Those charming, twisted cocaine grins that hooked in your blood vessels an created and addiction, those were never really meant for us, just byproducts of my condition.
I seek to slake my thirst and then I spiral toward the worst and sheathe myself with nimble words and softly spoken verse. You curse, a plume of icy breath escapes you, churning as it dissipates in the January air. I remember that last snowfall clinging jealously in dark brown hair. I spat your curses back at you and swallowed twice their number, then weaned myself with venom and awoke midway through summer. You were just a ghost by then, your spirit all but broken. The facets in your diamond eyes are splintered, cracked, and hopeless.
You scattered your ashes in the leeward wind and left me in the mountains. You dipped your crimson lips, I thought, to kiss, and tore my larynx out. You slit my gut and peeled away the flesh and forced your fingers in, to dine on the divine and be reminded of your wilting sins, to drip my blood into your throat, to see me smitten, spitted, spitting, spinning, grinning shit. Follow the pulsing in my veins to where they all collide. I will be a meal for you, but only one more time. So take this little heart of mine and feast, but make it last.
For when next you want a piece of me, you'll have to eat my ass.
Yours,
-S.R.
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