Let Me Squeeze You

No drink necessary,
only a glass of water
and a few cigarettes smoked
one after the other
until the room is grey
so my soul grows
happy in its colours.
Let me squeeze you.

Every tear that lands
upon these unforgiving pavements.
Every teenager turned away
from education towards crime.
Every young mother
with a black eye,
and especially that child
who takes memories of fists
to the playground
that you and I know
as life.

Let me squeeze you.
Let that quick burst
of serotonin remind you
what it could feel like
if you hadn’t done
what I have done.
If you did not do
what I often do.
If you weren’t going to do
what I will eventually do
once again.
Let me squeeze you.

I will probably never
know you,
that keeps me going
most of the time,
but some things need
to be passed on.
Whether it be a knife
to your throat
or a limb to a passer-by.
Whether you drown your dog
or send wifey down the stairs.
Stop.
Stop before that is all you can feel.
Show me your actually reading this.
Stop, come here.
Let me squeeze you.