In this yelling season we bare our teeth
Devour each other like bottles of wine
I could tell you were drunk
By the way you phrased your words
It takes an ocean, love
I will drown on your floor
Liquor in my coffee
Broken dishes, overturned tables
Behind closed windows
I am wreckage and ruin, love
I am an empty room
Leftovers. Linear bruises
The hallways of late nights, the thud on the floor.
I am pain unconsidered.
You are the splinter for which
I’ve torn back skin
Cut into tissue
Relocated bones to find
At my touch it shatters
I shout for Vodka, Advil, Sanity
I am stitches and wine glasses, garbage of bottles
I am walking a straight line in my head
This is not a problem.