Your tongue watching your mouth
Burn in the darkness between
Fingers covered in ash.
You will never speak to me again.
I chew your index finger
Down to the knuckle,
And your blood tastes
Like copper as it runs
Down my throat.
Your bones are made of lead,
And you write your needs
Down on the back of my skull:
"I need time."
"I need space."
"I need to be alone."
So I pick galaxies and stars
Out of the night sky,
Put them in a jar,
And give them to you
As a going away present,
Before climbing into a black hole;
Disappearing forever.
Fuck it.
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