nothing good to say.

lost lingerie and
a new tube of red lipstick.
your cries of passion are
a mimicry of something
sinister.

i hate you.

ink and chemicals,
60 dollar co pays.
tell me you love me?
“i love you.”
soaked handkerchiefs and
blood spotted tissues.
do you think i’m good enough?
coffee stains,
a battered copy of
lolita.
i asked, do you
think i’m good enough?
“you’re perfect.”
water proof mascara and
torn contact lenses.
screaming, begging,
do you love me?

but later never came.

my mind keeps flashing
to the day you said goodbye.
do you want to go for a ride?
no. i’ll stay home.
summer sun shining on your face
by the open doorway.
i can smell cleaning products
in the next room,
and i can feel my agitation
rising.
are you sure?
yeah, i’ll stay home.
“okay, i’ll see you later.”
the creak of the screen door
and everything okay.