you sank into my skin when I met you, placed your hand over my heart and dug deeper.
Now you're in my bones.
taking up space between my rusty joints
and splintered cartridge.
I could take a scalpel
and cut you out, bleed you out like bad
humors.
if you've rested between my porcelain femurs
does that make you part of me?
Or a tumor.

my skin still smells
you linger
longer than I could have thought
perhaps, I think you thought I was something special.
"You really are beautiful."
Darling, there are demons in my spine, leaking fluids into my brain.
and I'm insane.
So don't stand so close to my flame.