Cold Like You

told me your lies, when you opened your
mouth out came a family of maggots and
stale clichés. it all poured out of that
rotting, festering organ that was left to
decay after the blood, dark gray.

stopped pumping, stopped feeling,
stopped caring about all those people who
gave their pumping pulsing lives to be
chopped like a t-bone. yea, you made them
cold like you, we’re all cold like you now.

and you’re not sated, are you? disease tattooed
on your forehead, lies plain for those who
see, foolish pride, stubborn, cynical, can’t help
you, damned before you tried, walk wide from
the transparency. read you like a red warning.

learned from the mistake of building you up
only to be brought low. lower than the six feet
you hope for, a let down, you spurn hope in a
bottle of whiskey and two packs a day. waning,
grasping, reaching for thin tufts of grass

on the jagged edge of a cliff and begging for
a helping hand to pull down with you. pull ‘em
down to the blistered earth of your tender touch.
your defiled lungs to breathe smoke into the
future to blacken hope and exhale pink elephants.

flayed like an inquisition dinner. yea you screamed
for all the poisoned love to give you back that black
instrument, to feel a pulse, so you painted coal
the color of gold and covered the grime with luster,
fooled yourself, yea you’re happy now.