You loved me first.
You're the worst.
You called me best—
Fuck the rest.
I'll take
My spastic life
Over
Your plastic life.
But they're better
Together.
Like p.b. & chocolate
Or pussy & dick.
Our lives—our why's—
Are so deeply intertwined
That I "haunt your dreams."
Touché: you haunt my mind.
Without you, my art is dirty
Ragged and malformed.
Like a freshly aborted fetus
In a sodden cardboard box.
Every time I see a fox.
Or hear someone say "babies"
Every time I watch fireworks.
Every time I read my own damn book.
Every time I have to sell it.
Every time I talk about it
I hear you, talking about me.
Every time.
There is no separation.
I've tried & almost died.
The only person who can help
Won't respond to my cries.
The only person who can relieve
The burden of waiting for you
To love me again
Is you.
Tell me you hate me!
Tell me to leave you alone.
To never speak to you again.
'Cause you haven't. Not once.
Why?
Am I a back-up for when you alienate your next best?
Or are you too afraid
To banish a bitch
From your heart to Hell?
Am I the only one you've let inside?
Are you afraid
I'm the only one
You ever will?
Do you hate that
Someone who loves you,
Whom you can't stand,
Knows your heart like the back of her hand?
I may not know
Who you are now,
But there's some shit
I won't let you disavow.
You can't change your heart
Any more than me,
Or you wouldn't have taken my book
And you wouldn't have told me your dreams.
Love Fucking Always,
P.S. I wrote this book because of her. I wouldn't have finished it without her. It means something.
