Sunday, April 7, 2013

am i a murderer?

i am guilty of the feigned ignorance of you, 
you; the worn-in sweater.
and i,
i; stoop awkwardly in front of company with a paper towel
to wipe your blood from the kitchen floor because, 
what the fuck else am i supposed to do?
your wine glass was in the sink,

please try to fill it
with something other than a comfortable love.
you deserve fireworks.

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