Nothing Happened

One night sacrificed to drunk dreams
Too high to appreciate any tenderness
Too royally fucked by the ashes of a
Smoking lie
Colored aggressively by
Circumstance with shabby shades of misery
Dressed in the frayed rags of
Childhood longing
Too sick in the disease of us;
Wasted beings of a glorious excess
To care about
or notice
The sly creeping in of
A burglar sun

I was choking on the sands of time
Wedged in the middle of
Your hourglass fantasy
With an epidemic distaste for you;
The bullet in my heart
That should have killed me

The exit wound
Bled
Red fantasies of raping you

I hated you

I wanted to

You never came and
And even here
We were both so
Gone

I loved and lost you
In the small hours before dawn
When nothing happens