Rough

Please
go,
out from under
my skin.
Away from the beds
of my nails.
Please get your
dead skin off 
my sheets.
Take your 
crate of 
bad music
and go.

Please stop watering my plants.
Stop singing in my shower,
leaving your fine black
hair in my drain.
Please do not change the volume
on the television.

Take your hand off my mouth.
Take your fingers
away from my bruising
neck.
Quit popping my blood vessels
that only wanted to 
love you a while longer.

I will drain your 
foul spirits down 
the kitchens sink
and break the bottles over your
goddamn head.
One
after 
another
after
another.

Please get your mouth off of mine,
don't grope around
under my shirt.
Stop pushing your hips
into mine.

I will pack your bags
personally,
both of your grimy toothbrushes
and the cheap airbrushed porn.
I'll call you a Gypsy cab, even.

But don't grab my hair,
don't say my name.
I will cut off your fingers
like you cut off my 
lungs
with your thick 
mouth.

Please go
and don't let the door
hit you on the way out.
With my love
go, 
and take all my purpled skin,
all my blackened eyes
and wear them like
badges
of your patriarchy.

Don't sit on my sofa.
Don't pet my cat.
Get the hell out of here.