A lovers quarrel, always happening,
it makes us distant. Mercy. Have me here
looking at you, eyes longing to search your body.
I want to you to want to hold me, trust in your proposal
I wasn’t even listening to it anyway, I was hit
by silent words. I am your hostage. Forgive me
and all I do — a composer of noise. In a room
with only a mirror, a vanity dresser, a mattress
God, I’m disgusted with this, with this cave
that whistled with howls of temptation.
Built with pressure, cultivated in loathing.
I used to be so happy. Locked fist crashed into the mirror
”ow,” crimson waters come from my hand, I fall
onto my knees with glass littered on the forgotten floor.
I hate you, I had hated you, You occupied me, why?
You look like me now. You are pieces of trash,
broken, brittle, pathetic pieces of garbage
Relief. Never forget, never again.
You called out for me, like I was your Lord
I am a body, blessed and freed.
