It's funny because it's true.

What do you get with 16 ounces of bleach

and a heart hurting?

Get dead.

Get gone.

I see nothing wrong

with making jokes about suicide-

I’m serious:

I’ve tasted it.

Like liquor,

little thicker.

I’m a beer girl myself.

Mix a mixed drink with poetry-

Hope the metaphor floats.

All I’ve got’s the heavy end

of hard-hearted.

You think that’s enough.

This heart is full

of holes, threw stones

and now we’re exhausted;

taught us we can’t see the same face twice.

And you refuse

to get good with the sun,

hiding behind a false priest

who says today looks like a good day

to die.