body count

damned and encouraged to slip

bruising my hip

on the sharp edge of your ego trip

the sheets smell like doubt, like aftershave

you run on half promises and unwritten rules

making knots in my hair as I lie there

watching you leave as I feel empty

staring at a map where a pin used to be

because we weren’t watching a film, were we?

the film, the prize

the girl next door with naïve eyes

my body was your body was your gold mine

I feel washed up like something dead

this isn’t about feelings you said

heart leaps knees weak

all for the squeak of a cheap whiteboard pen

on the wall in your halls kitchen

level up

and on to the next