Conventional love reels, halt,
he dictates.
I hear him puking in the kitchen sink,
Now it's almost every time.
Sit again, and grant relapse.
The contingent nature of being drunk,
the end- porcelain face.
But welcome blueish purple, welcome mats.
Overcoat by a leech- sticking for plans: magenta, warm;
Show me again, fantasies.
A room filled with sorry, flashing sores;
THIS fantasy overshadows THIS fantasy,
Over love, and grant relapse.
So quiet, it's not right.
What's right anymore? My hair-
He said I look cute. "Don't leave, I love you."
I love you too.
YOU ARE READING
Sanity For Two
Poetry"I remember why it's important for me to continue living." A collection of poems and a few short stories mainly about mental illness, suicide, death, abuse, love and friendship. ((SOME TOPICS IN THIS WRITING MIGHT BE TRIGGERING TO SOME READERS, SO...
