You Listening?

I promised my darling Moll Moonlight a contribution to her Valentine Cafe series. I’m late but I’ll be late to my own funeral. (Sorry Moll, I warned you it wouldn’t be frilly!)

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I’ve been chewing on pomegranates of my own doubt

And spitting the seeds into your pockets.

You don’t even flinch, you just count them like currency,

Like little black pearls I’ve grown inside me just for you.

My rib-cage is a cluttered attic 

where gentle things go to die,

But you’ve climbed the ladder with a bucket of Domestos

And a heavy, velvet hammer.

I want to be your pet parasite.

I’ll lick the fucking floor for you.

Hmm? I missed that. What?

I struggle to sit still for you.

I’ll siphon nectar from your jugular

Until we’re both too lightheaded to stand.

Is it sweet? It’s a festering honeycomb.

It’s a feast of salt and marrow and copper.

I’ll wrap my hair around your ankles so you can’t walk away,

Jealous hypocrite. Sorry, what? I wasn’t listening.

Don’t be mad. "He's just a friend."

Come sew your name into my liver with a rusty needle.

We are a catastrophe.

High-grade chloroform.

Your tongue is tangerine-laced Rohypnol.

I love you like my knuckles love tape.

Please, don’t be kind for the sake of it - be absolute.

I’ve had enough nice to last me a dozen burials,

I want the type of love that makes tyrants unleash the hounds.

Hey, are you listening?

Give me an illness that’s lifelong.

Promise, I’ll sit still if you will just

keep your hand on my throat.