Half of You

Bones, mere bones.
Hollow insides,
cowering toes,
retreating hands,
mad, mad woes.
Tonight,
I make up only half of you.

Plastic bodies,
burn with a stench,
melt into the dark night,
a wistful sham,
smoke and smoke.
Half of you,
halves my body in bloom,
I wither like the unloved flowers do.

Electric and static, 

the love grows,

for Infidels who own guns, 

and their silver bullets puncture livers,

the bile of melancholia, 
spills on. 
Lover, oh lover! 
Must you always win? 

I find your teeth marks
on another's skin. 
That night, 
I slept with eyes open. 
Thinking, 
how I abhor your smiling face,
the stinking nerves of a shallow male ;
I go sick and blue, 
remembering the half truths, 
the half heart, 
the half I had of you. 

So, 

I buried half a body,
I marred it with a knife first,  
I loved like cancer cells must. 

And tonight,
all your foul parts,
the foul mouth, the foul arms,
the hands, the legs
the warm neck ;
The jugular vein of a vain man,
I shall cut.
I will not make you up.