You do not do, you do not do
Any more, black shoe
In which I have lived like a foot
For fifteen years, broke and white,
Barely daring to breathe or speak.
I shall take you off.
Laying in the dirt, its still
Better than living
With you.
I'll leave you here
Do not be afraid,
as an empty, emotionless extension
of your environment.
Taking one of my last breaths,
What a trash
To feel their warmth
Once in my grisaille life.
They would never look at me
With dry, grey eyes.
Listening to me being disgustingly
Persistent until I stop.
My darling, I'm coming home.