all these years of living outside the city
have turned my heart
rural –
outside of me – the only things
that i can acknowledge
exist separate from who i am and what i feel –
cicadas rub their arteries together, too small not to touch
intimate parts
when laying so close.
they found me
in the midst of my drowning life
and i listen,
they reenact my ***. it's okay, please don't disassociate
because of me
if it keeps you from feeling empty, get full –
swallow the details
even if
it means i'll forget them – i am
far away
from everyone. isolated, weeds like a noose, i ruin
myself first
because i remember far too much. i
am alone too much
i have nowhere but myself to put the hurtful things.
now afraid –
my heartbeat is the rhythm of
bugs
running from the sole of a pretty shoe. i am
wanting to scream i'm sick i'm sick i'm sick
but only the trees
will hear me – hold me. i'm sick
and for once
i can't ***** it out. can't bleed it out.