The Generous

Sometimes when I see you
I wish for death
Sometimes in your arms
I feel the most lonesome

I grow tired of looking
Up to the paneling
Trying to hide the hurt
It made my stomach churn
Frantically searching
To avert my gaze
And free my mind from you

When will you blur the lines
Of dream and reality
And return to me

When all I’ve wanted to do
Was hold you
When will you realize
I’m integrated into the setting
Of your lifelong epic

To play an extra
Though my role is small
I’m amazed
At how you can open
Old scars

I started drinking
Smoking
Snorting
And gave up on sleep
Gave up on myself

But the trenches don’t seem so cold
With two
You don’t stare
At the blisters
Studding my skin

You’re there kicking at nibbling rats
A peeling hand to hold
With drowning lungs

It’s the trench foot
That causes me to fear for your life

The black veins
Traversing up shaking knees
And the vacant expression
In eyes like patient rivers

That dream of a land
Where we don’t exclusively
Make love in Pollock paintings
Of blood, shit and mud

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