you made a playlist
of songs about
car crashes

not because you
want to die
but because
your mind
does

you’re a sick, sick person
my little,
                old
love.

with eyes like ferocious , angry
beetles, you
chew into me and cut out
tiny,
        stinging
                       holes.

if only you knew i wasn’t invincible,
if only you knew
                              you were toxic.

the cement is wet when you bash my head
open,
and
the cement is still wet when it
rains.

i am sick
but not just
in the head

sheet metal leather
belt pulling itself
tight
around my waist
and around my
neck

empty bursting empty
can't fill my
stomach
bursting empty bursting
too much in
stomach

nausea from breathing
too full yet
hollow
lungs can not
get enough oxygen
in
out
in out

frozen stiff and
trembling but strangled
by clothes and
by my own
skin

food poisoning flu
indigestion cramps panic
stop

please please just
please just please
stop

where are you?

not gone,
you promised.

not answering.

where are you?

i need you.

where are you?

im sorry,
i was gone.

where are you?

please respond
i am scared
i am terrified
i need you

where are you?
not gone.

isn't pretty
isn't happy
and
isn't fun

my december is
losing hair and
coughing until
i'm about to pass
out

my december is
loss of appetite
and aching joints

my december is
heightened anxiety
and sensitivity to
those around me
and their
emotions

my december is
sickness
in more ways
than one

but it is my december
and mine alone