Fucked Me Completely
They say one mans trash
is
Another mans
treasure.
My trash
Is stuffed with cotton balls
Caked in dry pink medicine.
Q-tips that
Whiff
of polyethylene-
Glycol and ninety
Percent isopropyl alcohol.
Spent safety
razor blades
Dull as 90’s re-runs
Of shit
sitcoms
with laugh tracks
That play dead
Middle of
Scorched summer
days
where
the good ones
Were better off
Making hay. .
Used needles
I couldn’t be bothered
to recap
For the kids that frolic
And forage
In the landfill.
Empty pill bottles that once contained
Hopes, and hedges
And hungers
I can’t even name.
Death threats
Unsent
But thoroughly imagined
And loosely planned
And bills paid far in advance.
Expensive lotions
Containing polysyllabic
Novel FDA non-approved
ingredients
I won’t ever be able to prove
Made any fucking
Difference.
Pharmaceuticals that tell stories
Autobiographies
Can’t and
won’t.
Amazon receipts for
Empty anticipation
That came free with
Useless tangible contents
Of boxes
I now have to deal
With.
And
letters
To
You
That fail to do
Justice
to the myriad
of ways
You’ve fucked me
Completely.
