ask my mother,
she'll tell you.

actually, no,
no she won't.
she good at pretending,

and I am too.

it's impossible to love me
longer than six seconds;

three days,
tops.

ask anyone ive ever met.

sticks and stones may break me, but
the silence swallows me whole.

and I love,
I do,

i love a boy like the moon loves the sun,
my father like sand loves the sea.

and now,
now im calling your bluff,
bridges burned, broken knees;

spilling oil ducts
into the brain, into the breeze.