Home Gets You Head

I look. To see.

a tragedy.

 

it's creeping on

this aching me.

He sees the signs,

so pure, defined

I find it and still call before--

 

I shut you down.

get my number off the wall

you've had your call

on too long,

so it's so long,

to the shutters, with

hands.

 

 

and when you wake

from this

devastating glance

I'm afraid you have no chance

so scorn, denied,

and my

purest delight:

who's won this fight?

 

 

Reaching for the foot rest,

I never felt this feeling inside,

gravitating toward

the gag reflex of justice

cough it up, stop the plug,

make a breathing and heaving of tonight.

 

 

hope you're healing

from bleeding out this time.

 

and I hope you're scared cuz

I'll beat you 'til you're mine.