Oh, Poetry. What a fickle and troublesome beast you are.

Quiet

Shhh

Shh.

So quiet.

All I can hear is the steady

THRUM!

Of the AC.

The heat beats into me.

Purging.

And yet,

I continue to poison myself,

The next drink stands ready

Smoke curled around the neck.

Cold.

Condensation dripping.

Each drop a reminder.

Forget.

Forget.

Forget.

The heat is still there, though.

Overpowering.

Lapping against my soul.

WHAT IF?

Have you thought?

Do you remember?

I light a new smoke.

And wave away the cares.

Bathroom Break

I smell of sweat and despair

Of lonely nights

with only my fingers and mind

for company.

My scent reflects Google searches

of handsome boys

sucking other handsome boys to completion

My own face taking their place.

And mine own completion

and silence in the bathroom

I know well how to muffle any cry.

I would embarrass n one.

If only

they would

actually touch me.

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