Untouchable

A bed of nails
Will suit me well;
I’m not one for glamour.
Rouse me from my dreamless sleep
With swift strikes of the hammer.
Comfort drifts beyond 
The tips
Of my broken fingers
Linger,
Linger,
And ferment 
In my broth of pity
Please,
Spare no crumb
of bread—
Instead—
Save it
For more deserving.
Unnerving is
The stain I paint 
With my shadow’s ink—
A waste of sun—
I’d be more use, if
Translucent were my color.
Bloody
Rubbish
Viral; vile
No more than a thief 
Of smiles.
The throat of doom,
Which swallowed me,
Choked on my calamity.
Indigested, 
Here I stay,
Left to ruin every day.
I am just damned
to be,
you see,
An oil floating through the sea.
Constricted hope; 
Reptilian noose—
An endless song 
Of bleeding blues.
Happily ever after?
—Never after—
Not for me. 
Fate’s smoldering scorn
Has torn 
And torn
Away this page;
I’m a molting lark
Soiling a canary’s cage.

I’ll never, ever
Dare to ask—
But if I did—
I would only ask
if you could save

an unused gutter

For my grave?