"Everything Is Fertile"

grasping cold porcelain
between scabbed fingertips,
she screamed into the phone,
pleading for his initiative
when he told her he wouldn't mind at all
if she choked on her vodka vomit;
she could drown herself in the toilet
for all he cared.
her body contorted,
gasping for air pure of stench,
she downed more aspirins
and sleeping pills
and most of all prozacs.
butdeath left her through the mouth.
death didn't want her;
death failed her,

and i know it'll fail me too.
today i'm way up high,
but the clouds are pissing acid
like confetti, and i'm front row.
i thought the grass was dead down there,
but the grass is fertile.
the acid makes it
grow,
and so do you.
the flowers are fertile;
the seeds are wet and new.
the earth is fertile, you are fertile,
and i am barren.
i am alone and you are two.

death failed you,
but birth will save you.

it crawled in with putridity so familiar,
at least to her. but for once
she saw no bile, only beauty
splattering
her straggly, sweat-soaked hair.
her god was a traitor, but this was her savior.
she was infected;
she was overjoyed
she had a parasite. and holy fuck,

you don't know how much i want it.
i need it like it needs you,
need it like it is mine too.
i am gaping and empty;
my hollow wasteland
is only entered by my hand.
you let the flies inside in swarms
and transformed into mary.
once i was glad to be so clean,
so unused and untorn,
but i have nothing to
renew.
i'm in between maggots and dirt,
and you are the flower.
i am alone and you are two.