Twisting Twin Flames

I gave up my warm body
to you,
for the night,
howl to the moon
and back,
you gave me only
a fucking excuse
and the rhetoric of lying
that ate through my skin,
wanting to weep as I lay there,
expecting nothing
and thus receiving it.
Did you think twisting flames
together was going to be an easy game?
Even your brain curcuits
are stumbling around
in the dark,
looking for the answer I want to hear.

Too queer,
too fat,
too ugly,
too male,
too female,
too sexual,
too sinful,
too tempting,
and too crazy.

The same words rearranged
to imply a lack that's always mine,
and inside where I squirm from the truth:
I don't give a rat's fucking teeth about it,
I bleed with or without you.
The mad house
scores his whores
either way,
typical goddamn mammal-
bail when it's complicated,
rusty nails,
python-lined shroom trips,
sleazy liquor and jail time.

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