I’M SORRY, IT’S THE WAY I AM

From 30 Gold Street

I thought I had told you

warned you I have the ten

dency to hurt the ones I

love-hand me something fragile and

my ten fingers will poke and bruise it like

unripe fruit, your heart is just plucked

cherries, that I don’t mean to, but I still ended up…

self destruction is apparently not enough.

I have enough hatred to spread around

in patterns of heartsick red that is enough

to choke on for two.