The Neverending.

Pride Ed

I find you rattling my cage at midnight;
bones exposed, rapping on the iron bars

that trap the clandestine, and the lucifugous.

The beatings were nonstop, almost profuse
in nature with invectives

that I’ve howled at the moon (like scared
children in rags, we howled at the moon),

and the cold stars wept salted tears that felt
like acid in the bite marks of my skin.

You clawed at my back, but you just wanted
my attention. Nothing more than the hollows

of my eyes on your decaying flesh, breathing
with the turn of a key; draining with each

purulent rupture as you sighed.