these december evenings of low, hunched back
pressed against cold mattress, cold grass, headache on heartache.
insides aflame with the psychotic fumes of gasoline,
suffocation, justification,
humiliation at this delicious concoction of lies.
slither away now, snake! you've done enough -
thoroughly chew and swallow your delusion before you
TAKE THE LAST HALF OF MY HEART.
pleased yet? you should be.
it's a ruin-my-birthday december,
ruin-the-next-girl december,
eat-that-shit-up-before-you-grind-it-into-little-pieces-of-self-deprecation december.
wet, lazy eyes following the cascading of a waterfall that would rival niagara,
choking back merciless weeps at the realisation
that there comes a point where no apology can medicate.
LEAVE ME TO DO YOUR DIRTY WORK as i internally scream
from the core depths of my lungs : you're a coward.
this holiday season, under the protection of suburban shade,
cheery christmas melodies,
softly soothed by the reassuring arms of time
yet gently caressed by the words of new heartfelt connections,
i have come to the realisation that it's just not worth it.
you ruined december for me and for that,
sheltered by the remnants of my conscience,
my heart aches for it is broken.
