a lot more literal

staying up all night
again just to
hear his voice; it's
like i've been sunburned
inside my eardrums,
so in need of aloe
and affection

masochism,
walking three steps behind the
happy couple,
surviving on the breath
he's finished with
when he's done with her
gone away and forgotten;
this is the fabric of
late nights and
later birthday cards,
insecurities melding into
insincerity

liars,
birds can't fly
south for winter if they
lost their compass, folded
pinions; plucked pickled prodded
into the form of an
animal that found the capacity
to masquerade as human,
it learned your voice and everything

he made balloon animals
out of my windpipe
in the time it
takes a tornado to level a trailerpark

i guess i'm just a glutton for punishment