The Ending Credits Poem by Anna Luiica

The sadness of the ending credits,
rolls between the tongues of your lovers.
My written words,
curl in thick smoke amid the protruding bones of another.

The taste of vomit
kissed upon chapped lips of men in other figures.
How young the void of hope feels, filling the distance
Orientation creates.

Easy;
this falseness we created, the bed you make
Inked across fragile blue veins

How easy fills the cracks on your tired mouth.
Makes the slow walk of departure desirable, orgasmic
Nothing left but the mirror image of sickness.
A disease dressed in boyish clothes
Have you never walked alone?

Running
amongst the selves, the thinness of your reflection
Nothing to hide but a resistance
Nothing to show for a life lived in motion,
no bruises or former lovers
There was the occasional screaming match in the kitchen
but nothing to record, to curl away from, to sleep the day gone.