I'd Like to See Your Face

How the lines would twist and break
along the contours of your eyes,
how shock would crawl across shadows
painted all over your rosy cheeks.

I’d like to see your face
when I burn that blasted shit
of paper.

I’d like to see the soul
depart your body for a moment
as flames feast on paper
bit by bit, bite by bite.

I’d like to see the death
of twinkling stars beneath your eyes,
watching in helpless horror
how the paper dies to ashes.

I’d like to see you fall –
almost faint, when I torch that
blasted shit of paper.

I’d like to see your face,
but I’ve just realized.

I wouldn’t.

You wouldn’t even care,
wouldn’t give a damn even as
the paper writhes in pain
on the floor.

You wouldn’t give a damn. At all.

You never did.


This was written in honor of my 4th Departmental Exam in Math 100.