(thousands of them)

The tension breaks us off.
I hear you breathing,
Heavily down my neck and I wonder how I’ll make it out,
I wonder where the nearest escape route is.

I crawl out of bed while you are sound and snoring,
I wrap the towel around my naked body and tip toe to the bathroom.
Dirt covers the crevacies of the sink and the walls-
And I am smothered in the basement room of an apartment in the greatest city in the world, and there seems to be no room left in your a queen sized bed.

I drift in and out of consciousness;
When I awake, its panicked and claustrophobic
I draw close to your body in spite of the distance;
I'm not quite sure if you feel it or not but I think it is growing.

You press your face against my cheek,
My make up smears with your persperation
And he thrusts deeper inside of me.

How many brothers and sisters do you have?
Whats your fathers name?

I can hear you when I lay in your arms on the leather couch.
There are no barriers when it comes to energy,
And in our silent voices, we are screaming.

I knew a man,
Limp and numb and barely awake.
I followed him all the way home.

What I would do for just a little bit of water-
A slice of reciprocation.

Where’s the grass around here?
I haven’t seen the sunshine in days.