I break my fast
with myself
sulking, I slaughter all the good I have gathered and gorge it with poisons
I forsake my own tongue
then entangle it with thirsty swarthiness
in iambic pentameter I trod my own game
and gallop its defenses
just to defeat my own aim
what work is this?
I insist in living without you
yet with you I am so obsessed
which is more innocent?
service or slavery?
I, my love, have torn you apart
in(to) ten rupees
but still you make sense
why why
do you go on quenching my nerves?
taking my insults
allotting me more rope?
why why
do you live and rise remaining here like an established country on my home front?
why do your words penetrate my steal dixie cup
and grate against my comfortable ache
I know amnesia
I wake up and go back to sleep
this loneliness a numbing sugar
which I inject
into every fear
of loss
even when there is nothing to push
I still have my hands out
ready to replace sisyphus
why why
all this goading
into nostalgia for love
you keep your sentimental arts and crafts out of here
you... you and all your love!
who do you think ruined me for doubt and despair?!
I can barely fake devastation when you're around
I wear all the ragamuffin scripts
and yet
you cast me
as the Christ child
isn't it enough to be omnipotent?!
You have to make me happy, too??!!
Your Beloved
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