Post-Nut Clarity

They’ve grown apart quickly,

Yet he hasn’t done much writing 

‘Cause he keeps re-watching 

A movie named, Breakfast At Tiffany’s.

Many times he doused

In a pool of insanity

From the night his lover felt forlorn.

His eyes, filled with agony,

Stare like forming storms 

Above the midnight ocean.

Cheating is pyrite 

For love’s golden tokens.

Does he believe that I can still 

Drown in his eyes?

Or will I find amusement 

In his calamity 

Since the November skies?

Did he turn his chair to avoid me?

Perhaps, he’s low on oxytocin?

Oh my, what did he do?

If I cry, will he hear me? 

Even if my tears are frozen 

In a state of doom?

Oh my, what has he done?

I gave him a tapestry,

Adorn with his birthstone 

And mine.

His brows crunch enviously.

“Didn’t you give up your saxophone 

For Elder Scrolls Online?”

“I did,” he replied,

Swallowing his pride

And vanity,

“Like a long time ago.“

He poured gin into a chalice

Made of styrofoam.

His brows crunched wrathfully.

He ripped me apart,

Hanging my tattered tapestry

While I crawled away

With a bleeding heart.

Set ablaze for all to see

As if I were a conquest.

Now I stand bare

As the autumn trees.

Do you rain water from your eyes?

To my surprise, each tear 

Burned with regret.

Or do you shed fire? ‘Cause

I found burnt stains of sin

Marked on your unmade daybed, 

My traitorous desirer.

O, full of hate! 

He should be afraid

To raise his head

Above my vengeful seas.

Please, let him drown instead

Of begging me to give him

Clemency! 

I hope you bite your serpent tongue,

And deliberately inhale smoke

Into your lungs.

Clear the air 

For me to breathe fine

With my permanent

Laughter lines.