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.