Your very own words fuck you,
like you’re drunk on formaldehyde
live tissue covering a worthless heart
drowning in vague images and
tv reruns of a single night that
has lasted your entire urban legend.
Do you even remember
the last time you kissed a girl ?
So, no this isn’t about a girl
or a credit report in need of repair.
scarred deep inside your vital(?) organs ?
You are reduced to only a sieve for
rerun glimpses of paper mache happy.
If you believe in God
and this is how detached
and disillusioned you have become,
then It is no longer a struggle
to fix the broken or write anew.
It is now an inevitable ER waiting,
Where you live watching yourself
in the waiting room watching
the pink ice melt away in the tub.
The endless drone of an auction
for a heart worth nothing and
the last thing you hear is the auctioneer.