by the knife

help, i'm alive.

I'm still alive in here.

I want out.

this suburban war beats hotter

when the weather turns its cheek

something unspeakable

and we've started a war

neither of us can win.

so I stumble

only the wall here to

catch my drift

can you hear it beating? crumbling.

like (beneath) a hammer.

my liver is crawling with

the toxins of a past

holding tight enough to choke,

but it's okay.

It's okay.

lack of breath keeps me going.

the hard-edged touch

of my own hand,

not the caress of another

to bother with now, never.

the distance is nothing new,

me and you

we got this down just right

tight and tighter

until it snaps and we

fall away. apart.

the insatiable needs

crawl inside me and vomit

stale pleas,

mutual self-destruction at best

and now i select my future

from a pile of dusty closet cards

that remind me of false hope.

false prophets that smell like

my father

and run faster

than these dry eyes can blink.

the puppy sleeps and inside

inside i am screaming for nothing,

just screaming to hear myself

make noise

so i know

i am still alive.

we swallow hard such harsh words

and i never told you but

that night

i was testing your heartbeat

by the knife.