maybe i am stupid.
maybe the
umbrella didn’t keep anything up, or out,
and the rain came under and the ground hit hard
but i would always
climb right back up the cliff anyway.
look in a mirror—
that’s you, or it was, once,
and wasn’t everything so much better, then?
warmer beds and
cleaner fingernails.
they cleared out those cliffs to make
condos, but
i’m just happy people are living here.
i say i love you and i mean it.
i say i love you and it means
something else entirely.
i stumble out of the forest and
onto the highway, covered in blood,
hands slipping over the steel dividers,
i say they
dragged me into the woods and tried to **** me
and that is exactly what i mean to say but
this time nobody can hear me,
so i go home.
would it be so difficult?
i’m slamming my fists down on the ice,
desperate heart overcompensating
but the ice will not shatter,
and my fingers bleed.
is it over? at once it is and isn’t,
but it’s too late for me, anyway.
i live in a state of biding my time, of
want so powerful i think it might **** me.
i drive past the cliff. i drive past the condos.
i see ghosts, now.
aren’t i something?