i was fifteen when it happened
i laid there waiting for it to end
my body was like an acorn
waiting for the squirrel to steal
it away, only to bury it deep
underground where no one
could find me;
i was numb, but do you
know that feeling
when your shoelace gets
stuck around the peddle
bar and it's been spun around
so far already that it's too late
to stop? it felt like that
but much worse

i kissed the asphalt before
my lips ever touched
another pair of human lips

i only know what shards
taste like

don't feel sorry for me
though; it's the nature of
things

you get used to the sharp
edges, and that's all you
long for

i was twelve when i died
but i no longer mourn