by Carly Rousseau, Contributor

You have me down. 

Like the back of your hand,

you know I don’t like salt and

that I’m scared of airplanes.

You have me down.

Down in your book of conquests,

like a hurricane you pound and

waves of ecstasy crash in my veins.

You have me down.

Like a dog lying at your feet,

I want to lick your wounds away

because your pain hurts me too.

You have me down.

A stream reduced to a trickle,

my needs dissipated by your own,

I am a compass with no point.

You have me down.

In a chokehold on the mat,

nowhere to go from here,

there is no referee to count me out.

You have me down.

Down on my knees,

begging myself for forgiveness,

weeping tears of defeat.

You have me down.


Leave a Comment!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s


LANDFILLS is a grassroots literary, arts and culture online collective based in Chicago. All work is original, except the featured images that accompany text posts (which are blatantly stolen from Complaints should be directed to Po via Twitter.
%d bloggers like this: