It’s only a heart—kill it!

I am Defamed

Today was another

Defeat

It slowly burns away any sense of pride

Or self-worth

That I felt

I’ve lost all my finger nails to that moment

Just when the alcohol rears its ugly head back up again

My stomach has grown accustomed to the torments I inflict upon it

And my throat feels the stippling burns of the gun or the cigarette

“Residue of blue nicotine”

Cause of death:  Too much stress

                               Too little time

“Maybe, if he fell in love again? The colors do brighten, and the perfume does sharpen.”

 

It’s an afterthought

My love is an afterthought

My heart is an afterthought

My cum is an afterthought

It leaves shadowy figures behind

Pale imitations hardly worth flattery

And there it is

And there you go

Telling me to move forward

Become a better me

And I beg

Leave!

Let me remain with expired thoughts. Let me be with my vices.

It’s Ramadan

I want to kill my heart,

And I want to break my fast with wine.

 

© A.R. Minhas 2017

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