i cut up my apple then read a few
documents to sign my life away right
back where it came from,
notwithstanding the foregoing.
i am my own dog that
licks the peanut butter off the
spoon now.
i looked up what it meant to share
a traumatic bond and found myself in a
cyclical state between two resentful
mannequins strung against
time and other insatiable
responsibilities.
there was always an emptiness inside.
i put the knife down and think of
all the green onions i've minced in my entire life
to serve dinners in a home that felt like
a coffin.
we will have to try again later.