Halitosis

This is a rough version of the first track I wrote for the album. I will be producing a demo in the next week or two, which I will post here.

nothing

quite like waking up behind you, on the ruins of last night–
32 ounces buried between the couch cushions to
our immediate right,
loaded .45 beneath your side of the mattress, second degree murder
the instant you hurt her, its
safety says
and suddenly our marital bed
is just another stick of furniture to
stash a semi-automatic sense of wanderlust,
replacing
each little adrenaline rush I felt when I wanted you most–
the deprivation feels as close to death as I have ever known.

And I admit it’s
a little jarring, to know our sparring is merely symptomatic,
an anaphylatic reaction to our sudden loss of traction,
emotionally taxed at our most
vulnerable point.

It’s draconic
to deny even the most beautiful thing in the world is incapable
of halitosis,
can’t share the focus
of loneliness in a boneless marriage of anger and shame– just
imagine the fruit of THOSE loins.

It’s a flip of the coin, actually
whether you love a person and all their warts, and how you
court their ugliness,

assimilate it into joy.

We’re all part-illegal alien,
part frightened
scattered homo
sapiens,
hapless patrons in a bar pretending we can find
someone who will stand our
morning breath.

In your case, you made
weapons of
exhaling.

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6 thoughts on “Halitosis

  1. Love the imagery here.

    “We’re all part-illegal alien,
    part frightened
    scattered homo
    sapiens,
    hapless patrons in a bar pretending we can find
    someone who will stand our
    morning breath.”

    Wonderful reality thrown right in the face.

    Like

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