Riding in the backseat,
Picturing a stampede—
I want to know the feeling of my body collapsing into itself beneathe the
Twisted Metal.

Now we’re hydroplaning,
The foxes must be waiting—
I want to transcend the life I’ve known,
Because only broken girls turn the
Other Cheek.

Roaches scale my tiny legs
Close my knees so they can’t lay eggs,
I want to disappear into the woods and live among the wild hogs
And Sleep.