i don't like to title my writing?

by bachelorette

for every profound moment spent
the ribbon is pulled more tightly
around my neck and i can feel this
in my throat, i always can
and i always try so hard to keep
it from coming up.
i never succeed.

you've been gone since the leaves
turned since the air turned
frigid and i think that i am frigid
but slowly meleting. leaking on
the hardwood, on the carpet
and spoiling everything good.

i couldn't hold you tonight
it wouldn't be like before,
it wouldn't be the same Glycerine.
you couldn't hold me tonight
because you've coughed this mess up
and out. i'm not your disaster
to mend to.

i haven't coughed this mess up
and out. still there, too much
of it, i wish i could starve myself.
i wish i could hold these guilts
and sins further from my face,
nearly out of perspective and into
some sunrise/sunset where the glare
would be too bright for me to
comprehend, and in return, for me
to care.

i would pierce my skin if it might
resolve every imperfection
mistake
flaw
wound

i would do anything to feel at home
right here.
this ribbon pulls so much tighter
and its up but not out.
you're coming up, i can't quite
get you out.