Are You Dead Yet?

Along the swift fall from dream into reality
I glaze over your perceptions like poisonous confections
You’ve ripened over time with all the grace of a cheap wine
Jackson Pollocked my mind with your C. dificile slime
You bitched and whined your way out of a good time
It’s not fair, all this thinking, all these hopes I didn’t ask for
And the echos of your words I’ve had to scrub from my psyche
I’m over it, and yet I go sniffing at the gravesite
To salvage what I can from the footnotes of my death-rites
Are you still out there, pining like a puppy?
Lamenting the film’s potential, had you chosen not to snuff me?
The you that I remember is just who you could have been
If you’d known the basic algebra of how to be a friend
I still can’t help but wonder if we’re damned to walk alone
Two monarchs in our gluttony beside an empty throne
I still hear the whisper of the cosmos when you think of me
Could choke my lungs in sage, beg the ether, set me free
But I would rather not, I enjoy your silent screams
And I’ve grown quite accustomed to the bittersweet daydreams
Each day I hold a warm compress up to my heart
Try to soften this scar tissue, make a treat out of a tart
But we both know that it’s caked in vegetation
And septic it remains, despite the interventions
You couldn’t hold a candle to the dauphins in my court
But naught they hold a candle to the way we fucked for sport
So I think this is the last one, I think I’m moving on
You’re fading in my memory, you’re very nearly gone
I have no animosity, in fact I wish you well
May you enjoy your preparations for eternity in hell.