thrill-seeker, cake eater

Weep.

weep until you're gasping, clutching
for breath
asphyxiation 

weep more.

because that was all you could manage.

before someone came around 

frantically trying to clean up

the pulverized glass and crystal shards

and your manic disillusionments 

but there's blood on his shirt now

and tear tracks leave salt trails and 

permanent pockets of resentment

and resounding disappointment

weep because you loathe dependency

more than the stretch marks on your thighs

yet you thrash wildly for an apathetic

turn of the head in your direction

the slightest dimple or roll

has you in hysterics and you

weep.