Silence is a form of abuse.
Don’t leave without saying goodbye.
I recall when you left the television on
To cover the sound of the closing door.
Aborting our memories
To recover a heart of shit and piss
I am sick, in that I believed in a place we could both love and die.
I am death, in that I want nothing more than youth without breathing.
I am prideful in this dormant desire to love no more.
