She'd destroy everything she touched
and
how she destroyed me with her touch
was there nothing behind those ashen eyes
she'd see right through me
towards the ashtray
heaped with mentholated cigarette butts
I really thought we had something
in the juvenescence of the year
what she really wanted was
a refrigerator full of imported beer
and a pocket full of fresh electronics
I'd serve as a temporal crutch to artificial domestication
soften her hardened reality for awhile
quiet things down upon the living room carpet
smug before a nightly television
we ambled below fallen rain one evening homeward
through this sullen armpit of a town
she didn't like how the cold damp rain
fucked with her high
one hollow night
I received a timely telephone call
to be expected
she'd be no more
and serve as a whore
to a middle age male homeowner
In the end
all her dreams
she'd rather shoot into her jugular
my love for her
remained
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