-

you come home, open the door, 

leave your boots right on the floor, 

don't smile or nod or kiss my neck

and then you take a cigarette

and smoke till midnight. Hell!

Fuck that!

I'm playing St Paul, fix ash with gin, 

take my shirt off like I'm a whore

but you're high on ketamine.

I bleed the letters from my nose,

the droplets smudge on nipple rings, 

I am close, so fucking close, 

but I need another drink. 

4, passed out in salty bath, 

where my wounds soak up the foam, 

you put rubies in my meth, 

I'm alone when you are home. 

And it's tragic, but it's fine, 

cause blue horns grow off my spine

and my hips, the veiny snakes, 

will ache and melt and age and flake.

don't fuck with me, or fuck and go.