Le parole stanno verniciando.

I went to your house. There was no one there. I was all alone.

I went through everything in my own time, some drawers ripped through franctically, clawed through, swam through with desperate breath, panting, drowning, flopping through your things. Some drawers meticulous and pendulously painful, my arms heavy, my fingers too far from my thoughts. I looked at everything. Glances, and maybe more, my eyes greedy for everything, anything you've touched with your breath, your gaze, your skin. And I wanted to consume everything, hide it in my belly, crush it between my teeth, grinding your secrets.

Pupils flickering around your room, catching the light, catching your scent.

I am not here. I was never breathing your air.

No no no no. I am grayest gray. I am silence in a masoleum, the tap tap on opal, my body is a lamentation cage. Plump, youthful arms are wrapped tight around my throat, hungry for my worthless flesh; a scab over those tender wounds left from when we held each other through all that was golden.

And now it is purple, royal bruises, teeth soft like beautiful words melting down my channeled tongue. Turn it off before I bleed, before I am a useless bride, twisting up through the roots, a sick, wickedsick implosion that cannot be contained--that is, by nature, contained.

I am vomiting here. Here in your room, in your sanctorium, sanitarium. Crushed under my own ivory Bastille. I could never hold you up: I beg you to hold me down. I am alone and you love it that way. You laugh, chiselling your palsyed disgust into my tender ear. I can't cry. You want it and I owe you what you want, but I am a mocking bird, I am disobedience, I am hysteria, I am dementia, my darkness an oily gorge that I could never climb.

You've pitched me into my Mariana with a healthy rope to hang myself and silver hyena charms; I itch, itch.

No no no no. The curse, the joke I was to Him, to He. I want to find you here, but all my hope is a sad song muffled within your walls. I find nothing because your shell is gone. You are your ancient suit in the closet, you are the heavy breaths as I try to shut my throat door. You are the crying in my magic world, a lonley tinkle as the tine scratches your gravestone. No no no no.

Take me. I scream-raw for you to take me too. Don't leave me to the roots in the trench, forgotten even by hell, rotting into extinction, your yellowed baby shoe caked in mud. We all die alone. We all die with nothing. We blink out, missing like the teeth of time.

Fuck, baby. I can't catch my sorrow in my hands. I can't tell you what I know. We are all fucked. We grab at each other in our flicker. And now I grab for you because I can't slide away. I can't swallow away. I can't wish away. Keep me.

No no no no. Keep me.