I think I ought to focus more on
the ones who love me back.

Fill my life with
more striped shirts,
buzzing bass between my ears,
the cold wind hitting my hips.
Vending- machine love and
golden eyeshadow.
Lying sideways on the seat, with my legs against the wall.

My heart lives permanently in my throat,drained of blood and white, veins growing up my neck and drawing out in the shape of words.