Desolation

I can’t say what you
Want me to say;
Every time I try
My throat swells up, Irritates
my throat, so that when I succumb
to your wishes, all I can do
is cough up blood.

Give me the key,
I see you can’t be left to yourself.

“You can’t be left to see as you are
poor child, your retina has shorted itself
out with your grand illusions, you’ve
blinded yourself.
You’re as cold as the arctic sheet ice
Saps your heat.

You dream too much.”

You can’t have the key.
It belongs to me.

It’s mine.

I drought myself
to save myself.

Rusting in the water.