i wonder

if i looked closely

could i see the handprint of every girl

you’ve fucked

framed upon your skin

each finger caught somewhere between

i love her


she’s a whore

because to you

a girl is no different than a cigarette

you press her to your lips



breathing her in and out

in one warm breath

until nothing is left

other than a wet hollow husk

another soul to simply be smothered beneath your shoe

time and time again i’ve watched

only for you to look at me

and say

why does it always turn out like this?

as if you’re unable to see

the way my hands have blackened

from wanting you too badly

unable to realize cigarettes cast to the pavement still burn

unable to realize

i’m still