Sick Inside

walking to the nearest liquor store
we trip a wrong turn
and dream what cockroaches dream
picking at scabs with ambition to bleed
Chuggin Clorox Bleach
she wispers with her eyes
her neck turns too far
and I hear bottleglass
scraping across the pavement
she watched me with milky white eyes
and listened with dead ears
I told her about the milkman who looks
like a weasel and quietly fantasizes
about slowly pushing his letter opener
into my spine
I told her about the president
possessed by the devil and a lust for dead boys
I ate a snickers bar for lunch
that was full of razorblades
and washed it down with contamination
and tap water
it's slowly eating my insides