Featured Poem | November

I’m Living the Dream


why am I so calm at 3 a.m.?
my eyes blink once for each passing hour
and a threesome left to rotten out the back of my eyelids,
left to impregnate the hunger turning my bones to cinder

outside, she dyes blonde and mauve, like spring
pressed to her lips – while I’m ambushed by sheets
that she’s touched, and held hostage to a tongue
hell bent on fabricating fables to soften the tension

my mouth cannot take the weight anymore

I scratch out little pieces of death that rivet through my pores,
I roam, but make no sound, I don’t come out, I’m a hotel key
that’s passed around

I’m living the dream, I’m living the dream, I’m living the dream

she has gold curling in her throat, curdle me
and spit me out towards the end of the hallway
where I lie awake with smoke in my hair and
melodrama melting these locked doors

manipulate me, please.

I am where I’ve always wanted to be,
I’m living the dream, I’m living the dream, I’m living the dream

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