Mr. & Mrs. Nobodie
I saw your skeleton
in every moonlit chuckle; every warm beer
spilled across my cold and compliant nipples,
every sun-cursed coffee-kiss-shuffle, every
was-that-really-the-last-fucking-beer tantrum.
I saw you, and still counted
and adored every
stupid bone.
You could always dig mine up
just by walking into the room. In return,
fuck yes, I was gonna be the disco ball
in your coffin as you lit the dancefloor
of my soul. I was dedicated to dying
more and more each night
to be the bag of bones you’d imagine
being buried with; kindred dirt-glam
kisses, I’d dig you forever and play
dead on command.
I wanted to save us from bone-splintering
boredom. But it seems
the Moon was only dying
for a good joke.
Horror Sleaze Trash 