paint your mouth red.
float this tender highway.
at night your body bleeds
rivulets of sugar.
but darling, by day
your throat is swollen,
your knees are bruised,
your tongue is bloated and raw.
you are left open, a door.
yesterday you were a child,
your stomach was clean.
now, you are seeping, sticky,
with false moons in your
perforated ribcage.
you are hanging
by their fingertips,
hollow, pink, and
buried by morning.
I wrote this poem using only words from poems I've written before.