Those two lips were the iron gates of hell.
spitting venomous words, sugar coated pills.
Hard hook sinking into soft flesh
you reeled me in: flesh, bone, skin.
Judas mouth poised open, ready for the kill;
gawping gallows, gasping to swallow me
and engulf me in flames, dowse me in shame.
Your hook was different, you prefer the pierce
of a needle, the blur of the bottle,
to package yourself up in a shoe box
and paint the inside the colours of your mind.
I can't remember the first day I knew
your mind had swallowed you up and vomited you anew.
You were a King when I didn't know you
but you shattered, scattering yourself like dust.
And I feel granular too. I watched pieces of you drift
away, cracking like broken eggshell, too sharp to grasp.
My chest is tightening; the air feels thick, cold and wet.
What's happening to me? I think I am drowning.