I want to pinch the cold metallic shape between my fingers
As I cut lines through the druggy haze in the mirror.
I want the light to sing a merry tune along the edge.
I want to leave it on a tool bench and find it later,
Corroded and coated in rust, dust, and forgetfulness.
I want to peruse the aisles of a home improvement store
And find a box of ten just like it.
I want to see the worry on your face at the possibility
Of inflicting harm on myself when you find it beside my bed.
I want to have a razor blade of a romance.
Or just maybe I want nothing of the sort.
Since you left I haven’t slept worth crap.
The sheets that once slipped, silk against
My nipples, now scratches and clings.
The dyslexic street lamp outside my bedroom
Window taps out “miss you, too” in Morse Code.
Drifting off into the whirlpool of frustration
My mind wanders to those moments of
Post-coital haze. Early evening.
The sun has dipped and amber light
Watches through the gap in the curtains.
All I want to do is save you
From the breech inside of me.
I’m falling through the cracks
And I’m too proud to try and reach.
Oh the irony.
God, I wish I knew how to ask you to stay
To hand over the key to everything
And let you see the wound inside I buried deep.
I am just like a thief
Bring me the full moon in a beer bottle.
Soak my vision in the clarity of hop flavored fermentation.
Recognize the moon for the rough lover it is;
Leaving the sky blue, blending to purple
Then yellowing around the edges.
Have a bouquet of daisies delivered
And let the last petal that hits the table
Sing “He loves you not.”
Leave a box of chocolates in my mailbox,
And if the mailman eats them