Handle With Care

i. denial

knuckles white,

he placates the needy steering wheel,

consoling her with stolen glances.

"sweetheart," he says,

and "darling" and "doll"

"one day we'll die,"

he says,

and she tastes it,

faint sweetness, almost nothing at all.

"one day i'll die," he says,

"and i hope it'll be with you."

 

sometimes i forget to wear my seatbelt, and i know that you do, too.

 

ii. anger

hazy's all i feel with you,

be us one, or be us two,

tangled up in bedroom blues,

sheets, and walls, and bruises, too,

if this is the life, then i'll never move.

 

iii. bargaining

i know it's wrong to

cringe

when you touch me.

i don't know why

i think, or act, or

feel.

sometimes i think i am

just an unborn sin,

masked by your prosaic beauty

and my simple sadness.

my body is poison,

and i can't hurt you with my words.

please, pick my life

with yours.