I can see
through your tough exterior,
like radiation,
but I don’t think
I feel like
I’m killing you.
I see your tender inside,
your weakness, longing
and scars,
oh, so many scars.
Maybe this was a bad decision;
trusting a wounded animal
isn’t the wisest course of action,
but I’m so bored
and you’re so desperate
for approval,
from anyone.
Even physical
interactions
count as significant,
as you’re wandering,
not connecting,
or even staring off into space.
You’ve become emotionless,
discharged;
nothing left inside.
Circuits on stand-by,
waiting
for another time,
another savior,
shyster,
with intentions just like mine.
Come to plug you in
and open up your drives.
There’s something pathetic
about this,
something synthetic
in your kiss.
Not even mimetic,
you’ve lost it;
your livelihood,
that thing that makes you.
I use and discard,
it isn’t that hard,
not when you are
who you are.
Bring back your gaze,
down from the stars,
turn it inside
and heal those scars.
Find a connection,
with something large,
or be disposed of;
dismissed,
like garbage,
discharged.
HG – 2018
