Juicehole

I used to love you like it was my job. Like my heart was clocking in every morning and giving me a fucking reason to live. This ain’t none of that Romeo boy band bullshit. This is that Mortal Kombat rip my beating heart right out of its juice hole and slam it on the goddamn asphalt. 

Blood splatters painting the back alley bricks with some abstract Pollock fuckfest of desperation. America’s flaccid pecker. 

I didn’t ask to feel shit, I didn’t ask for a goddamn thing. 

I want to scream and drink and fuck til the wheels fall off. I want this bitch of a world to love me back.