how cruel could it be?

do it again

(that’s what she says),

this time,

i’ll make the tables turn

i light a match

to see what’s right

and now

she’s making me burn

my head’s on fire,

flamingo red blood,

her wicked smile

tying a knot

“my darling, my dear,

don’t worry about it,

tonight

i will make it hurt”

i shiver,

i’m letting it take me —

i fly up, it’s fever,

i’m floating high,

she cuts me so deep

and kisses my scars,

i reach out — it’s gentle —

i’m ready to die

and then i’m awake,

can’t tell if it’s real,

the frozen sky

above my head.

the scorched earth was all

that she left me,

then brought me to

this flower bed

oh, plastic moon,

im out of words —

nobody hurts

but me

eternal sun

shines bright elsewhere.

how cruel

could it be?