she placed
tiles on the walls and ceiling 
in a multi-colored 
pixel 
pattern 
now we’re
reveling in the brilliance
of her creative invention 
an epiphanic realization 
when your home is a work of art
life is, near perfection

nothing
is as soul
crushing 
as watching
the rings of Saturn 
collect dust
on a mannequin hand
next to the sink

if the walls
we’re painted black
would your eyes roll back 
and sink like fangs
in a fleshy snack 
would your chest heave
and lungs collapse
while i whisper aloud
this to, shall pass

sadness besets me
clung to my hands
worn like a glove
suffocating my
sinking heart
with rejected love

she says she stays
to redecorate
her prison cell
and i die
a thousand deaths
to know this truth
is my hell

cheap coffee 
is part of 
my daily ritual 
hot water in my 
favorite mug 
her smile
and a spoonful of 
folgers instant crystals