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[Pippa]

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Hey, Mary, it's been a while. 
Not looking for anything specific, just any and all critique you have--hurl it at me. 



--let's fuck and forget
about the cliches
filling better skirts
more meant for you to chase.
"Hey, don't use my fucking name,"
you're not allowed.

I always felt like my mom
saying
you deserved more than a face
to lay waste to all your love.

I repeat the cycle
of fucking up,
I don't change because
I stick to what I know
and I've only ever known
to offer trojan boons
and take all
spoils
home,

but tonight, I don't.

I wonder
if I'll be done
when I see the sleeve
that wears your heart
is covered with it's blood,
and that I'm all
messed
up.

[Corndog]

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Enjoyed the grit in stanza one but it went a little sentimental in the last one.

[Edgewise]

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Hey, Mary, it's been a while. 
Not looking for anything specific, just any and all critique you have--hurl it at me. 



--let's fuck and forget
about the cliches
filling better skirts
more meant for you to chase.
"Hey, don't use my fucking name,"
you're not allowed.

I always felt like my mom
saying
you deserved more than a face
to lay waste to all your love.

I repeat the cycle
of fucking up,
I don't change because
I stick to what I know
and I've only ever known
to offer trojan boons
and take all
spoils
home,

but tonight, I don't.

I wonder
if I'll be done
when I see the sleeve
that wears your heart
is covered with it's blood,
and that I'm all
messed
up.

Reads like Bukowski with better rhythm.  One criticism I have is that the words sound like they were chosen more to jib with the (excellent) flow than they were to tell a coherent story.  In the last stanza, for example, you have sleeve, heart, covered, blood.  They make sense together thematically but I struggle to see how the combination makes sense in terms of a narrative.  It is very possible that I am missing an essential connection (or several) and if I am, please correct me because I am fond of the poems tone, pace, and contemplative atmosphere.