i cannot continue
to empty out
an already empty water jug

curled in the frosted grass
my skin is sliced
by a tiny sword
leaving this rash
of dots
all over my hands

hot air
and extreme defiance
has been coursing through my veins

i wish i looked as sick
as i feel inside
because then i could subsist on
giggles and green tea
and perhaps
blood transfusions
and
saline
and
exhaustion

peculiar creature
digs in the rocky earth
with a twig
meant as kindling

peculiar creature
is content
dwelling alone

like Pluto
once recognized
soon dismissed

i wish this
tea was spiked
with more honey
or more hope
or more self worth

i never understood the appeal
of flowers

or why
they needed to be given
in bouquets

peculiar creature
lights a candle
and prays
to nobody

peculiar creature
feels nothing
but
peculiar

oh dear
who
will
stop
him
now?