What Keeps Me Up

Its your

        smacking lips

                          that crack

                          me in half;

      scratching

                      at my eyelids

    as I thrash

                  at night.



      Fever dream         

                        - unsightly,

            a ghastly scream

and covers

            all wet

                    from salty sweating

              quite unclean.

Conniption          crush,

conviction            rushes

  through          pulsing veins

        at your  compulsion-

your eyes' merest flicker

  I'm gushing all the quicker;

becoming

    ever

    sicker.



        Wicked woman!



What could make you stick to me-

                                                why must you make fickle misery

                          of my sallow heart,

                                        muddled on the tile

                            in shallow puddles of love-struck bile.



End Me!

            Pierce        my puny lungs

                      and tear away my throat!

Here!

          Take this fine garote,

                                          and strangle me!

                                                                    And gloat!



      Pour my steaming blood across your stomach-



this  s t r e a m i n g  flood

                                          - is it enough yet?