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Ghosting

the men of my life leave me so I
replaced them with tequila and whiskey I
replaced the ghost stings with spirits
my father the bartender teaches me the
art of numbing and isn’t this the most
man I have ever been an empty glass at
the bar still bearing the mark of my
rapists lips I mean what is a man if not
a burning throat a godless belly filling
with salt the emptying of a chest into
the trash what is a man but the ability
to empty and fill at the same time a boy
disappears from my phone and rips out
his own tongue a boy tells me he has
lost the ability to love and swallows
every spoon in my house a boy forgets
his name every time I meet him a boy
pretends he is my imaginary friend a boy
becomes glass I fly into his chest and
break my neck I promised myself I will
not drink tonight and a rum and coke
appears in my hand I’m a reverse
shooting star see me crash into a
mattress and become every man’s worst
wish see my cupped body wish itself full
before it empties itself down the sink
see each man wish my body empty before
my mouth overflows with the love he did
not ask for I mean a blood he did not
ask for I mean he did not ask for my
trauma to empty itself on his dress
shoes but watch how it always seems to
come up I replace the ghosting with
spirits I declare this haunted house
condemned as if anyone has ever wanted
to live here for more than a night or a
dare the next morning the boys will not
notice the new parking lot each car
tombstoning my empty until it is full
isn’t it just like a man to revive
himself just when he needs you or at
least a body or at least an empty to
fill every night this week I have paid
tribute to this throat painted it with
water the shade of glass or blood each
glass a boy a forgetting a tombstone
fading until his name finally disappears
you

The post Ghosting appeared first on The Good Men Project.


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