the heart sinks
when it learns what I am
in here
with you
glamourized in your hand
limp and flaccid
dripping down your thigh
with every left click.
“I had a book once, my collected thoughts, I lost it in a move.”
whinos and whores
junkie poets
now byte suckers
and pixel fuck tunnels
digital pink release.
no empties to toss aside anymore,
where do you put the crazy?
dreams stacked
exonerated
boxed.
more holes in my socks than my heart,
but neither keep me warm anymore.
A Conversation With Myselves 