Poem: cowardice

...you are sitting alone in the dark,
like always and
outside, the crusaders are knocking down the door; got to have that kind reassurance,
right? what you became (to me), the coming, the savoring of a good stab in the heart-
you have no friends, no suit, no confidence,
what does the sun look like inside that head of yours?
lobotomy cut outs/ true love in staring hard at other girls, but nothing comes
she is dead and we are up in space, looking down into heaven
what do you see in me? and this cowardice smears down like rain tonight,
she is whispering: fuck me, fuck me but don't leave
she is whispering, and you are kissing her
like you are kissing your mother,
she is whispering, and you don't remember how
she looks like in a certain light...

november is the sickest month, in
a year of fireflies, and our
worst fears have sabotaged this latex and metal framework--
in a few more years, we'll be able to speak with each other,
when the whole world is dead and asleep and useless

and i loved my ugly body with each
and every word you mouthed.