Spit You Out

Weightless cirrus wisps dissipate on the midwinter horizon,

Diffuse cataracts blurring the dull ocher sunset.

Bleak, cruel winds jab at my back with skeletal fingers --

But I sit, watching the sun burn out, in this thin jacket.

Thin, because you dislike my thicker coat,

And I chose this discomfort over the other.

The concrete is cold and damp.

I can feel it beginning to freeze.

The space between stars dulls from aubergine to pitch darkness,

And the night ravenously leeches away my warmth.

I've held these s**t emotions between my ribs for so long

They have fermented and become unbearably fetid.

I can feel the heat from their decomposition warming me,

Keeping me from freezing.

I glance to my left and am dismayed to find that you are no longer there;

But then I recall that you left hours ago,

Excuses spilling messily from between your teeth.

The longer I dwell upon it, the more nauseous I feel,

Until my stomach clenches and a mass of bile and rot 

Lays before me on the pavement, steaming in the gelid lamplight.

I inhale the frosty winds

And feel them sink into my marrow, numbing me

From throat to navel.

Giving you up will finally allow me to sleep.

I slip away as small puddles crystallize around my fingertips,

Each breath slower than the last.