i've seen the monster in your eyes
the butcher knife between your thighs
squeezed so tightly i shiver from the pain
of the thought that i will rejoin you one day

warn brick city sidewalks form the impenetrable wall
until i crash into it, full of liquor, with my sledge hammer soul
singing songs i didn't learn from living
in the language that's as natural to me as not breathing

whispering to a drying puddle that i can still be rediscovered
in the warm female arms of the reflection onto which i explosively vomit
now i've really done it, lost my dignity and wit
from the early words of a bad poem to the final dry post-puking spit