Black BOX

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Grabbed a black box,

To fix your Saturday morning fuck up.

But I douse my cells in acid to cleanse, 

Look up and ache; and I think of her.

* * * 

It looks like her, tugging at my hairline. 

It feels like her, creeping back under my nails.

It sounds like you, drowning me in gaslight.

* * * 

Get her out of there,

Out of my hair.

Rid me of the residue.

* * *  

I grabbed a small black box, no two.

Half off, just like my love was.

I tried to fix it, now I'm back

Here drinking to the day

* * *

You left me with a crack.

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