Car rope whiplash,
the snap of my neck
to the right,
a crush of bones, a clatter
of clavicle,
all in a mash of brain fluid and grey matter.
I want to hate you when you tell me I'm beautiful
because I feel like
nothing.
I feel like flies buzzing
in a corpse.

the grey day
Beloved,
you and I at the cliffs,
holding hands over
a fervent sea.
You and I, autumnal rift,
pocketed by rocks,
swapping a storm
between our teeth.

I have nowhere to go,
afraid of my own home
and the creaks,
the way my mother looks at me,
a half starved love,
and my father with his scorn.

Do any of us sleep
besides him?
Keep our eyes open in the dark
for forming faces
over our heads.
He'll slip
like deadweight
into his reflection,
look at us like fleas and roaches,
to scurry at the sound
of footsteps.

Kick it,
tell your little girl you don't like her hair,
you built her a home
just to say
"don't you dare flinch,
or i'll tear it down"

She'll crawl away
the first time you yell
"useless!"
with a
*******
smirk

But she'll keep coming back
to you,
won't she,
because a beat dog doesn't know
when to quit.

I would just give you all my words
if I could,
even if it meant
emptying my veins into your hands.
I could open up,
a thirsty river,
and thrash every syllable
my tongue knows
onto your chest.

Do you know
divinity?
Finding water under dirt,
looking at me,
and speaking "snow."
I am not soft, nor clean,
but I am gleaming white
to you.
Speaking "pearl"
strength and beauty,
in a depth of ocean
no one else dares to look.

Divine me towards something worthy,

being
something worthy.

All I want to do is listen to La Dispute
and tell you I'm sorry
for crying during ***.

First and foremost
let us talk about the ink,
I haven't seen you for 3 days
and all it does is spill
in aimless sketches of your hands.

Does the rain come anymore?
I haven't touched my favourite book in months,
I can't tell you how the pages feel,
I'm a sorry excuse for a writer,
I get so confused on my way to a story,
So here is a full stop.

-

I get ghosts touching my neck when I think of you,
"Sh Sh Shh,"
a pillowcase to smother me to bed.