carrying a bridge, i
put myself between
you
r uncountable

thighs. i have one, sometimes
hating itself it wants to be
split in two, sometimes
it wants to have a hole, a room
to peer through

she is my only friend, but
she costs more than my worth

(if this was about the scale,
i broke it already)
sometimes i feel old, not cold
when the temperature drops
i stick my tongue out
and warm myself
from
with
in

(if this was about my grades,
it should've ended
before it even started)

this, a figure
i failed
a long time ago:
a child, a daughter
a face, a friend
a student, a spoiled rich brat
each one has become a stranger
fast
and sharp, right where i want
the hole gone.

i sit in the parking lot
longer than at class
i eat in my car more
than anywhere

the answer sheet is not mine, mister
it's hers
always