You Are My Favorite Drug Poem by Charles Malcolm

Yelling women on angled streets
or tangled in black straps, hanging from a
u-bolt remind me of that night.

A promise I made to myself
restrained in an
emergency room, unbroken until now.

My dear, if hell exists outside of my life
you and I are headed there head first.

F*ck you
and your
venomous bite and
ominous look and that
retroactive
insight
that masquerades as
empathy.

Damned, and all that's left is to
romanticize being
under the thumbs of this
gargoyle girl.