I.
ask me if it hurts.
i will bleed salt water rivers at your feet
and in the mud i
worship like a kicked puppy
begging
(malnourished)
you’re the one with cellophane sadness chasing the dragon
rushing through your veins like a forest fire
they say it makes room for new life.
don’t act like he didn’t save your ******* life
don’t act like you can call this a ******* life
smaller than small
call me a safe bet.
call me when she’s gone
stop drinking, call me
ask you if it hurts
“i don’t feel a thing”
II
i was told success is the sweetest revenge and i’m sugar. baby i’m black and white. i do it like you wish you could. honey i’m fire. ******* i’m fire. i’m licking up the walls i’m shooting from the gun i’m gone before you can think to catch me i’m wondering why they name hurricanes like pretty women but other natural disasters are brought up only when you’re coated in ash, standing just outside of the sea breeze, san diego about 2003. revenge is something like 5 am lift your head off a stranger’s kitchen counter with a sniff revenge is something like going going going 70 miles an hour if we look back we’ll lose the nerve revenge is something like midnight, train tracks, 5 shots down and ready to watch the blood flow go get ‘em champ. revenge left me shaking for 3 days preaching apologies to the choir sutured wounds begging for relief and i am a statue on the top of a parking garage, i am praying “jump”. by the time they ask me if it hurts i am dreaming and in this dream the trees forgot your name and so did i and i won’t feel a thing.
III.
twist the steel in my back until you turn me on
don’t mind the purple tinge under my eyes
(i feel stronger than i look, you could call it a trap)
bruises are just flowers blooming under wary skin and
i bruise you in dreams
i kiss un-diagnosable pain onto your vulnerable throat while you sleep
i sneak to your bed to pour salt in new wounds
ask me if it hurts
i don’t feel a thing