The last letter I wrote to you

I burnt them.

They should’ve turned to soil,

Or at least ashes,

But all you and I could see was vapour.

I sling my arm around a man

Again, it is a new city

A new listless lost hope

I feel nothing at all, not even the day after

The weekdays and the weekends 

Nothing

At all.

My body starts betraying me again.

Were I a 70s rich housewife with a cheating husband

But a loving daughter

Would I have been happier?

Or a man with a job that was exciting and a home empty

Like only homes can be.

A special kind of missing that needs to be felt like needles

Into your eyes.

Grief is so gory. Don’t you think?

My pain returns. In boomerangs. I dream of him again

My hand held, my pain caressed,

My joy returned.

All of the love I receive from my darling darling women

I chew all day and then

Like clockwork, like cheap vodka on an empty stomach

It comes out of my body like a raging rebel

T minus when?

Never, never again.