You’re bloated and there is

fear in your gaze.

You’ve demanded the right

to be this way and I

have acquiesced. 
Mirtazapine bought no peace. 
Food wrappers, razor blades, beer bottles, bong.

Your body is an energy pushing

pain into a form which it commands

the world to witness —
I witness you. 
I look into your eyes and whisper

— with my eyes — I see you. 
Bitch, you shoot, from the dark side of your mouth,

your head in chaotic orbit.
I’m whatever you need me to be, baby.

Let’s croon the moon to sleep like we used to.

Hush.