everthisng feelmss lkie a
typo

i have a scar, on the inside of my wrist
not from a blade

it's from my own fingernail
that time i tried to peel my skin off
tired, so tired, of being a
person

i told everyone it was from the curling iron

i immortalized you
and you don't even know

i rip open my skin
not much different than i rip the band aids off of it
tossing it aside in much the same way

thirsty for the secrets my body is keeping from me

the needle slips and my finger bleeds
i put it in my mouth and feel like metal

tasted like one of your apologies

tw// homophobia (especially due to religion)

a small, clumsy child
in a room full of glass
is told to look, but never to touch
and it's the child's fearful obedience
that makes the parent revel in their victory

a naïve, desperate teen
is admonished for looking at someone
they never should've touched
(for a bible verse told them so. even kissing was a sin for them)
and it's the teen's desolate silence
that helps the parent sleep at night

don't worry, parent
now i know not to look or touch
please rest easy
my life will not be broken glass

how do i reconcile my warmth with my machinery?
mechanical contraption checking the boxes
poet longing to form a beating heart with only words

the colder parts of me suggest i have some sort of surgery
creativity can be threaded to the bone with stitches

the softer places whisper in my ear a cure of sugar and cinnamon
logic is only an imagined intention

but i feel the pendulum swing
and it stops not for compromise