Liar

I don't think of you as an artist. You shape shifter. fake lover. with the paint on your face and too many pretensions.

I don't think of you as a man. You coward thing. weak thing. You lies and dust and kisses thing.

I don't think of you as a woman. Your thin bones and your lack of hair and your small breasts that i never wanted to kiss.

Artist man woman. Liar.

You remind me of too many books i've read and your always just raw, aren't you. Monotone is who you are. Monochramatic. anything but monogamous. You remind me of too many dirty things we pass over on street corners and shake our heads at. The nights get cold beneath newspapers, your fingers grey from ink. Your shoes with holes and licking lips.

Never mother abortioner. Too much alcohol abuser.

Couldn't even do those right, could you.

Shape shifter, fake lover. With your pictures and bad hair and secret vacations. I want to hold you down. cut your wrists for you. (you like that, don't you?) carve my name there for all the world to see.

You are mine. You were mine first and mine always. And it just tore you apart to know i never wanted you, didn't it?

Couldn't ever want such a play thing. such a pretender. bad actress with her bad lines. Bad actor with his bad lines. Which are you? tell me.

With your ink stained fingers and blood stained lines. give me a break. Self centered whore. Puppykitten licking at my feet thing.

How old are you again? I don't remember but i'm sure it's much too old for these games with no dice. Shake it. Take it. Work it. Feels good, doesn't it?

press against me a little harder and close your eyes a moment. And i've never hated anyone more. Liar. Faker. Pretender.

I don't list betrayals anymore but i vomit them in toilet seats like secrets. Whore.

Miles couldn't ever be enough distance. and i want nothing more than to spit in your face.