Moths Love The Sticky Side of Your Heart

i told her that mermaids crack vials with their teeth
to rid the fear of the salt beneath the square fucked
roof of my lip died for lack of flavor on the tinfoil
princess’s last goodbye.  she fell asleep on the
milkweed parasol for spite. listless and growling all
night. the shades pulled in and got bored and talked
about fucking with my life.  last night i invited them
in and they carved me up.  i only smiled when they
said something they thought was funny.  i worried
often about  my twittering black shoes were made for
running away with the point ought to be in my eye
because i never say anything remotely useful.  i’ll
hear a song on the radio and i would come for the girl
who is singing  like when you drive by a radio tower
and the people in the car are being defensive and
dull and you wonder what fell hot wraith knows the
wind up there where the red light is blinking.  if i
don’t take myself apart there is nothing left for you
to walk away with.  there are bits of shrapnel on my
lips and stuck in my nasty faces… this careless one
that listens without interest because you could never
touch me like those sirens do when im not complaining
about it.  all the ways i try to paint myself lovely
in the light for the times i am a shallow dish with no
love for you.  split me.  split me and you.  stuck in
a room.  we wished for this and they gave it to us.
you decided not to eat so you could mindfuck us into
money with no eyes with no mouth.  i like it when you
move unprompted then you lie back and act inadequate
when all we want is the next thread.  all the patience
in the world for you babe.  something in your voice
makes me giddy and wet. avocados in the shade are not
so blackened yet.  you pour me water in the morning
like it was fucking holly golightly and you whistle
like hell licking a lollipop. and you say hearts are
dangerous things but i don’t believe you for a moment
because lovely i want nuthin more than you.  can eat
moths and you can eat flowers and they wont make you
sick like you make yourself when you aren’t listening
to the sticky side of your heart.  so eat another moth
for me love and don’t ask permission just drink it down
with your beer.  you could call yourself a lot of
things but i know that you’re not.  doing anything
wrong.  take tylenol for instance.  you were right
though when you said hearts will tell you need
something and then wont let you have it.  i think you
look cute when yore looking for what isn’t there.  you
call it hating yourself.  im always here.  falling in
and out of love and life and you all the time.   you
trace the curve and give it nerve and you tell me you
never even dust it off.  i mean sure you never draw
like you used to. except for on my face or on the
floor. its always so easy with you.  the whole fucking
time.  we weren’t looking for anything and now you tell
me you know a secret and i don’t want to know the
answer because when you shoot that smile at me i feel
so not human and if this is the length of love than
i’m not listening.  you worry your outfit is vane.
these made up thought traps.  i believe in you.  and
you believe in everything.  except for yourself.  it
shows the way you walk it around.  moments when you
held your breath in the pool light wondering if she
would really swim away with you  gave her eyes and
held back what she wanted  to hear you tell her her
eyes are made of lavender and lime twist. but all you
said was fuck with your lips.  so she swam away
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