the laugh you shared with him is open barbs to me
like razorwire on fields of open skin.
you joke about the time and how i`m stuck at home
and you`re both so perfect in the way you look beneath the lamplight
christ it makes me sick
and before it gets too late
i`d like to clear my name
cos if you and he keep on like this much longer
i never want to talk to you again.
touch is the gateway drug to infidelity and as the
moon hangs bloated from a mobile made of stars and airplanes
i feel so destroyed and ugly while you reach on tiptoes to
caress the neck i`d like to push in with my thumbs.
and before it gets too late
i`d like to clear my name
cos if you and he keep on like this much longer
i never want to talk to you again.
and i`m spilling out again
and i can`t even see
what should be obvious
to stupid, wind-up me
with needles in my eyes
and slabs of stone for hands
i`ve been demoted down
to something less than man.
i relied on hope.