I am not a poet, but sometimes I feel.

He proposed to me with his coffee ring
and said, "I can't promise you anything, but I love you for now."
And when I asked him how,
he held me close to his heart
and I felt the black hole start to pull me apart.
He gave me a smoke, and he joked while I choked that--

"We're all dying, anyway,

so today the best we could do is to

stay together or lay together

and say that we'll never obey

someone other than the sun,

and even then we'll run from

anyone who calls us out for feeling

numb, and you, my lovely, will

finally see the horrible monsters

that occupy me and my bones and my brain;

that make me insane.

I'm in love, but this life is only inane.

I am only a name

and you're trapped in my dreams.

We must tear this reality down at the seams

and finally prove all is not as it seems."

And he kissed me and laughed,

but it broke him in half and

the two-headed boy finally dropped his last mask.

(In other news, je ne sais pas si c'est vous ou moi.)
Disassociate.