For Angel

Angel –

no other name

could've suited you better

you beautiful, promiscuous

atheist

bound for hell

if it exists...

And while confined on house arrest

for snorting dust

you called me in the middle of the night

to spill your demons

to the only guy who never asked you

for sex

while I jacked off to the sound

of the pain flowing

from your angelic voice –

I was always a good listener,

not for anyone else

but only for you.

And sometimes I wonder if you knew

what I was doing on the other end

while your eyes squirted endless orgasms

of tears…

I was too scared to tell you.

But it doesn't matter

because you don't talk to me anymore anyway.

I like to tell myself that you were scared too

even though you probably somehow knew

what I was doing

by the way I would breathe

when I said “keep going hun, I'm here to listen”

and you realized

I was just a creep

like everyone else

But there’s more to me than that

I hope.