We are here to put fear in each other’s hearts,
to keep us from fulfilling our own wildest dreams
under the pretense of keeping each other grounded.
I’m guilty of the same. I know the game, I’ve paid so many dues,
still, I am bound to it closely, my faithful lover.
Yet, I want to throttle it cruelly,
Bash it sharply against a hard surface and watch the blood come spilling
from between its lips. It spits out fragments of teeth and I chuckle,
Punch it again, harder, grind my knuckles against that beautiful smile.
I will leave it clutching at my ankles, gasping,
but I will still throw around doing-words without performing their actions
without really considering what happens when it comes back to me.
Love is a doing word, so is good-bye.

My breath is weak. I can barely feel myself shaking in this cold, but I know
I’m here because I recognize the eyes of the zombie in the mirror.
She smiles at me, that bitch, because she knows that she knows better.
She knows I know it too.
I’m wondering who put this fear here in me. I blame you, I blame him,
but in the end I blame myself.
For being open and vulnerable to attacks aimed at the chest.
It was faulty construction from the beginning. It was always,
just waiting for the boom.