crux decussata

   
I’d beg for you to kill me  
to fucking end it  
this shame  
this grief  
this torment  
   
but you threw  
a few passwords  
at me and  
cut out my tongue  
as an offering to the  
fuck gods  
   
(The god of fuck hates  
it when the sacrifices  
beg for mercy)  
   
So I hang heavy  
as a meat sculpture  
on a St Andrew’s cross  
infected with pain  
as you stopped 
  
peeling skin  
from my flesh  
   
to growl hello  
to your other lover  
 
the one you said  
you were finished with
 
She put her  
hand possessively  
on your cock,  
looked my  
exposed  
body over  
   
and found it  
laughable  
   
Hilarious.  
   
The very idea  
I would have done  
anything  
to protect you  
   
after she warned me  
her snatch  
was your safe place  
   
after she told me your  
decade in her bed  
mattered more that  
our winters in heaven  
   
after she sucked  
your ego clean  
while I fell for you  
   
Yeah, that shit was funny  
to her.  
   
Turns out?  
You were never    
the one  
in danger.  
   
She used your knife,  
the one you gave her,  
to cut my hair  
so I was too weak  
to pull it all down  
on our heads  
   
And I,  
loyal idiot,  
defended you  
even as  
you carved me  
to bones to  
impress her  
   
You gave her my skin  
and my midnight sweat  
you gave her my dreams  
   
our dream  
   
you gave her our  
goddamn dreams  
   
my inner fight  
drips away  
with each  
plink of blood  
on the dirty floor  
   
I’d beg for you to kill me  
to fucking end it  
this shame  
this grief  
this torment  
   
but you threw  
a few passwords  
at me and  
cut out my tongue  
   
so I hang here  
half crucified  
half skinned  
fully exposed  
as you pull your pants  
on from where they dropped  
next to her bed  
   
And she’s  
wearing  
your shirt  
when she picks up  
the knife  
to separate  
the fascia  
between  
my ribs  
   
so she  
can dig out  
my heart  
in your name  
   
and you 
  
kiss the back  
of her neck  
   
and smile