wanna **** myself and never see anyone again
my stomach is balled up and i turned my sun on and i wish it was off
i wanna lay down in a desert at night under the prickly arms of a cactus and have tarantulas creep across my flesh, while coyotes watch my slyly, i want to feel hunted and hopeless,
maybe adrenalin,
thrown away far down in the sand.
i wanna shovel sand down my throat
dry
small
i want it to get stuck in my teeth and creepy between my vocal cords and rattle with each inhale and exhale
i wanna snore under the stars and rot away,
with drying lips and dryer eyes, coughing up sand and blood,
lipstick on my teeth,
matte now, whether or not it was before
i want vultures to watch me,
with beady eyes and bald heads,
the men at school.
i wanna cry and die and not be able to cry because i have no tears left
i wanna rot in heat and sand and amongst nothingness
for the boundaries between reality and Keith Haring sunset painting and therapist offices with rainbow hands.