(no subject)

[starvation]

vicious of you to say of me
my own viciousness repulsed you
your rejection laps at me, slow and cool
the feeling bubbles in my diaphragm
feel a fever
rising steadily until I want to show
twist and shake and rap my face with bare hands
I dont know why I need you
after all this time
time doesnt heal all
the feeling didnt fade
everything else fell away
your voice your smell the kiss of your lips
but that feeling
feeling subterranean
diesel exhaust and old smoke
and you in the rearview
impossible as always
that's always been there
just lying dormant
sand in an oyster
sand in my joints
sand in my jorts
I hate it and I love it
and I'm always tempted to fling myself over
your precipice
to either attack or defend
win or lose
but fear cows me
what will I do without the regret?