We’re back to back and you’re resting against my shoulder blades
or your fingers are digging into my collar bones,
and you’re resting your mouth against my ear to spit in it.
Or I’m standing up and you’re kneeling behind me,
banging your arms on the floor until they break or
maybe you’re at my feet, tearing your face off
or you’re at the station, waiting for the train
so you can jump in front of it.
I’m just trying to have a normal conversation,
trying to smile and be interested and sound normal and good
and calm and happy and all those things that I should be,
and you’re right there, spitting in my ears,
scratching your arms off, breaking your bones,
leaning your head against my arm and murmuring,
I wish I was dead. I know, I say,
I know, I know, I know and then
I manage a nod and smile and a yes,
and you’re back at my ear, banging
your arms against the wall,
carving your chest out and
laying down on the floor
to break your teeth into the carpet.
I wish, you say, I know, I say,
I was, you say, yeah, I say,
dead, you say and I attempt a laugh.