For The Boy Who Didn’t Believe I Was Enough

By

its 4am and I have sung till my throat went dry
leaving me in no capacity to cry
even though I swear I have to, before I
lose my mind

don’t bother giving me Ambien
I don’t want to fall asleep and
wake up to this reality

you were a beautiful dream
a beauty that caught me in all angles of undeserving
your touch was the taste of comfort,
of safety,
of non-toxic caresses and kisses, yet
of the poisonous apple that tastes so damn good
in that moment, until
the sting of pain and regret pierces my intestines and
contaminates my bloodstream, leaving me
with at least four point seven litres of
a decaying infection,
a chemical solution for the perfect
ticking time bomb

just like the preview of a spectacular theatre show
you gave me a glimpse of what I could have
what I never had.
was it the warmth of the front row seats or
the familiarity of your skin?
the musky scent of sweat and perfume or
the addiction to your company?
you gave me one end of the golden ticket, then –

ripped it out of my fingers and
told me that the show has been cancelled,
the theatre was burnt to the ground,
the actors – killed in a massacre

all that’s left are the tiny paper cuts and
little specks of gold scattered over my palm
they are the sting of your scent
the empty spaces between my fingers
the vivid memory of you that keeps on fucking replaying
no matter how many times I bang my head on the wall

I wished I didn’t watch the preview
if only I had cut off my fingers so that
I could not peek through the stage curtains
So that I never held your hand

Maybe you cared, but
you couldn’t care enough, I
wasn’t good enough for that