recourse

there is no recourse for the pain
you’ve inflicted upon me.

my daily morning dose of crying
extends into the afternoon
and then into the evening.

(perhaps i’ll die of dehydration
but knowing you;
you’ll sneak in as i lie there
about to perish,
and you’ll puncture my vein
with an I.V. to keep that pain
alive.)

if you only could love me like
the way you derive pleasure
from persecuting me,
then perhaps,
just perhaps,
you’d finally let me go.

please, please, include heroin in that I.V.
and let it drip like my swag:
continuous and uncut.

Published by

jonathandeanrichie

Recently moved back to the States after living 16 months in Vietnam. I write to remove the thoughts trapped in the cobwebs of my psyche before the spider envelopes me whole.

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