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What if the person you love
Was not and never will be good enough?
What if nobody will complete you?
What if nobody will ever love you
As much as their own hand?
As much as shopping?
As much as sleeping in?
They hold you and never feel warm
They don’t get the poetry you wrote
They laugh, but they might be faking it
Do they love who you are, or what you are?
Are you together because you want to be or because you have to be?
They say you shouldn’t be alone yet you learnt to enjoy solitude
But that is something you are not allowed to like , so you cave in
You ask somebody to watch a movie with you
You watch it, you talk in the hope that you have similar interests
Even if you agree on everything, they will never understand you
They just get used to you
You become a habit
So do they
Like the endless perpetuation of the human race
More people do not make the world more complete
You both feel empty
So you fill yourselves with children
Who are empty too
You can’t fill a hole with holes
They take your money
They give you something to boast about to childless strangers
Unless they die
Then you have to say they were everything
And that you are nothing without them
But you are nothing, even with them
Both of you are
Nothing is ever good enough
Especially not you
I tried laughing the other day
Ended up coughing, hold the applause
Push them around, that migrant janitor, that grinning Mohammed
Breathe in recycled air in a plastic box
Lit like eternal midday
A confirmed miracle, bruised and purpled, swollen like a bee sting
We ran out of zip-lock bags, but we always had more bodies
So we built more walls to keep out the poor
A mother screamed as her son was scraped along the floor
An obese idiot laughed, bloated and asymmetrical
They’ll take you to the morgue with helicopters
To the comedy hospital with elephant tranquillisers
And surplus chromosomes
I saw you and laughed, then choked  the great toilet-mother
Now an obscene shadow, intrusive like a noise
You cannot block out rancid youthful succour
For a placid death larynx clogged with drool
That real grinning winner in a real smart suit
Paediatric gynaecologist
Professional as hell
Looking good in that suit no matter how hard you shut your eyes
I’ll always see that image in a titillating light
Even if you censor it, it’s still negatively there
Suture those peepers, impetuous priest
Anorexic arms
Bulimic teeth
Be less than nothing, be less than me
In the year of Our Lord
Witness the aborted birth of Being flushed down the toilet
Nobody ever noticed that it was God who was
Flushed down the great underground urethra
Into the saline womb of the sea
Like a butterfly tangled in a web
Like a bear being drained of bile in his cage
Like a dog being choked by her master’s chain
Like the neighbour’s cat being drowned in a lake
Like a nameless corpse being washed up on the shore
Like too many similes and too many metaphors
Like a real grinning winner
Like a pregnancy scare
Like pigs fed to pigs fed to pigs fed to pigs
Like being injected with air
Like all those stuffed ponies your little sister kept
Like falling asleep on your child’s deathbed
Like committing suicide by becoming a concept
Like carving a god-shaped hole in the middle of your chest
Like a planned extinction of me and me alone
Like finding bones on the shelves of your family home
Like a total blackout on the will to power
Like all your teeth falling out in the shower

Nothing will ever spare you from the void except the void itself

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