Restrd/ReMSTRD

to all the women I've never loved. to all your empty rooms/hearts

Erasure of the tape, wiping out
the cassette scarred tracklines masquerading
as your veins in a wine-stainedbrokenglass dance
party. Claw through pulsating coffin-envelopes
to remember

MAKE NO MISTAKES!

As you project yourself into a disemboweled
fantasy of youth and splendor and
mouth-gaping aspirations of completion
and

FULFILLMENT! OH, sweet yet bitter fulfillment, collecting on my tongue, capsules of ineptitude and shame. Sweet, sweet shame.

installment plans, replacement parts, and rebuffed charades
to catch the twinkle in your lover(s) eye(s) to
chart and recollect fleeting touches
that once chilled your spine, instead now
sleeping in the bitter wasteland
you've created for your self, for your
false sense of affirming your individuality
and independence
have left you
bloated
washed up
dry
and alone.

(you had your chance, but you love yourself
you loved the mirror, you loved the attention
you love your libido and faux-intellect,
drown yourself.)