poetry has been eluding me
I'm hunting the words down with blood
stained palms; can't you hear me?
am I bleeding too quietly

my heart holds no names any longer
these are crevices I want to
paint all over again
I want it ***** under my fingernails I want
it greasing my hair I want art crawling up my
arms I want it in the dark in the quiet I want to
be consumed in colors I'm afraid to inhale
devour me, poetry
I am only the lungs
you are the air