the dark, dark, paralyzed shark pincushioned a hole in the wall and said, "remind me. why do we do it all?" grief is a shiny stairway to ****** showering in syrupy Butalin i'm so angry at these bad dreams where did all the good ones go? i'll never be near the moon, it seems. i'll always be in my mind, trapped below that **** who hides in my teeth and in my skin lurking trickily where the deepest sin collides ordering me, ruthlessly: give in
i carry a ghost in my pocket i can open it up like a deadly locket revealing it as a helpless demon ready for the routine depository of its ***** does it need a piggyback ride to our castle of ice and pine? does it want to make its home in my belly, my nails, my womb?
Someone call an EMT who will scrape out the rut for me a few good cleanings, that's what I need to finally put away that black poppy seed for long enough to try using my voice at least once before i get to die.
it will cackle with joy if my heart suddenly fails. i will omit all cholesterol if that's what its punishment entails. there's such a thin line between inspiration and replication. maybe life is meant to be tired and this shape is all these continents will ever be.
i'm learning to fly i come and go. i float and grow. beating my wings to a rhythm that I breathe in and out- it sounds exactly like a quick heartbeat preying on rabbits and resting in trees instead of running becoming dead meat
i'm very good at hiding i keep it up until I'm as hollow as lightweight opaque translucent paper knowing it can't wait me out forever. if i could plague it with apprehension i'd follow him everywhere and lie about my intentions until he casually cheats life and leaves me Here
i imagine there to be a sound of these wooden flutes fluttering white flakes by my eardrum spiriting my shaking fingers giving me an excuse for the palpitations rising at the thought of my aggressor placed inside my flower drawer.
maybe it is my undulating fright maybe it is cardiovascular might maybe it is a measurable blight because i feel stuck in a daydream that steals my hair and, with a wrenching force, my underwear using the two to gag me with pressure.
then i wake up in time, completely alone. a window is glued under my eyelids of a time when I could part my lips on my own