Plane-Crash Love Affairs

you call it love,
this baby-take-me-as-i-am,
leave it open open open [arms? but you aren't steve perry;;
                                      so sorry, but you can't sing to me]

and i watch as your talentless eyes laugh,
lies written on your forehead in blood-red ink,
dripping, melting away your face until you are nothing but
dirty hands  ;;  wash them in the sink,
rinse her touch away.

our thin-skinned love was a blazing blue-vein catastrophe,
sinking in quicksand,
faster faster faster
the more i tried to fight it;
battle every demon you ever had while you sat on the sidelines,
cheering for the wrong team.

so i shouldn't be surprised
when your lying eyes fill with saline solution,
a facade expertly crafted
like the fake id you made me when i was fifteen,
banking on the security of your cold arms
              [every time you touched me,
                        my bones froze and cracked,
                                            shattered into shards].

no, i should rip you apart like you slashed through me,
leaving your initials carved into my skin
[but you were never zorro, honey, though i know you wished for it].

i should tell your little pre-teen beauty queens
that their lips don't mean anything to you,
that the reason you call them baby is
because you don't know their names
[and you never will;; no, you won't change for anyone;
you fly solo, leaving holes in as many girls as you can]

and when i was done,
you'd be nothing but tracked-up arms
begging for someone, anyone
to keep you up at night,
to let you sink your teeth into her shoulder
and scream yes yes yes you're the one
[iswear].





but darling,
when it comes to love,
you've made me as brick-hard as you are;
i won't look back this time.

take your teensy-tiny trophies,
let them touch you all over,
make them believe it was their idea.

leave them brittle and broken,
hearts stone-cold,
patched up with ice and snow
colored crimson.

but i swear to you,
when you come screeching down to the ground,
engines failing,
with terror-stricken eyes,
the final crash inevitable,
  i'll be dousing the cement with gasoline,
  making sure your death is every bit as fiery
  as the place you're headed.