Wraith

I am tired
But I am awake.

We’ve been through worse.
More cliches to settle in discourse.

The window, left open for you to sneak in,
arouse the dead outside in the night air.
Climb in bed and pretend you never left.

Still, here I am. Awake.

Alone.

The eerie sound of angels too lazy to carry me into dreamland.

Longest breath from me to you.
Across the room.
Sleep til daybreak
The wraiths at night wait.
3 a.m., I feel it

Daybreak and its ugliness.
In contempt.

The room comes alive.

Ex-Lover

Ex’s and Oh’s
Just let us go
Woke cemented in sweat, so much of what’s taken
and what’s left.
We left it all where arms clench
into a climactic collision
of skin and tissue connected,
limbs pretzel in wild unison,
not quite the way you left them.
The smell in the room of lust, love and blood that mixes well,
convalesce from a night tremor where everyone you left off got back on the floor,
the bodily fluids visible with UV light.

They’ve all had enough of us- they got what they wanted.
take, take, take and I must be more important than you
more important than two
Hands clapped and drawn into laps, asleep
so we can wake in the aftermath.