i was

i was

your drug

of choice most of

the time your enabler

too, like the moon in scorpio,

capricorn, in half, your hair, my

fingers, i was bitten by that apple

shot by the trigger finger, this live

body in a corpse pose i was trying to

break it down bust out blast off be real

i was not in your veins i was everywhere at once

speaking in circles and trapezoids and parallelograms

constructing beauty out of leftovers, unable to turn red

wine into clear water, i could not perform enough miracles

loaded on sex and seduction and just the right amount

of your rejection i was never on my own

two feet wearing pink shoes you didn't

like i was not quiet in bed during

any hot activities or cold fights

i was bearing your bitter load

drinking with my eyes shut

wandering with quiet pens

through journals at night

you were too afraid

to look in your own

corners too fearful

to see your father

the detached

lonely addicted 

puppy dog

face

in the mirror

1.2.11