Honey

Open the jar, honey, just let me try
to describe how my brain tells my body to die
for you, darling, baby, sweet angel, my love –
a cast-iron fist in a velvet-soft glove.
I know that you’re gone but it hurts all the same,
the bruises have healed but I can’t ease the pain
of knowing I let you, permitted, relented,
and the thoughts of your hands leave my body demented.
I’m haunted, by spirits poured slowly on rocks,
by incessant ticks of biological clocks,
but the taste on my tongue of your honey-sweet lies,
and the beat of my heart drowned in orchestral cries,
makes me laugh, honey.

My name became honey, something too fucking sweet,
and all that I am became something to eat,
to consume and use up, to be gorged and left bare,
and I begged you to stop, but you just didn’t care.
You sucked on my bones, and you picked the meat clean,
and your fingers were gentle, and hurt like a dream;
but it felt, in a way that I can’t quite describe,
like I was a banquet for you to imbibe,
And I’m starving, honey.

You called me honey though I said it pained me,
and day after day you bit down and you drained me,
of blood, of nectar, of hope, and desire,
and you opened the stove and threw me on the fire,
and I burned myself, honey, so brightly for you,
and I prayed that you’d fall in and burn with me too.
But you liked to watch me with intimate care,
as my flesh reached a succulent medium rare,
and I can’t help but find it a little divine,
that my tears taste like beer and my ashes like wine;
and though you loved a drink you’d refuse just a taste,
you’d rather I rot into saccharine waste,
And I did, honey.

Now I have a name and it sure isn’t honey,
and of things I could focus on, this one is funny,
cause it makes a cute metaphor, sticky and sweet,
and we can laugh about boyfriends and what they can ‘eat’,
but as with all things there’s a little bit more,
there’s you standing proudly and me on the floor,
and I can’t wash you off, god knows that I’ve tried,
but when soap’s been rinsed off and I’m all nice and dried,
it’s still there, like honey’s been poured on my skin,
and I know in my heart that I can’t let you win,
But you have, honey.