Wearing the Universe

There are ways to measure the absence, but I've never cared for their methods. Plastic devil's horns on heavy heads. The sequins in their stare unwilling to negotiate with my pain. That I thought was ours way back when. In the tiny orgasms of love that led me to believe I was that small.

You think too much.

You reason like a corpse does. Death the beginning, not the end. You tell yourself this death is the last one. Like very addict will. So many times. You purchase your loves at the backdoor. From cheap prostitutes. As the lonely must. Swim through those puddles of sour sex to find the new.

Rationalizing your grave in so many metaphors. Wearing those other universes just as they would wear you.

Hoping you won't be found.