A porcelain something
On my bedside table
Fused into the wood
It’s a pretty little thing
Beautifully crafted
Of something
It goes bone deep,
Everyone I see
Looks nothing like themselves
It’s in my nervous system
Everything I touch
Is not quite what it was
Porcelain smooth
Yet it ****** me everytime
I run my hands across
Skin deep wounds
That heals before
It ever starts hurting
Never known famine
Yet I eat roadkill
Off the sidewalk
A porcelain something
Where it doesn’t belong
Full of greed
I don’t like what
You’ve done to me
I am hot to the touch
Porcelain something,
I’ll let you break my skin
Let it pour for you
My blood isn’t mine to keep
The next time I see you,
I hope to see you dead