there is
sloppy bright blood
pouring-
gushing
and
i need some tissues
or a ******* roll of paper towels

it tastes like iron but it isn't hard
it's warm and it's heavy
but no, never hard

anyway
it's spilling
from the spot
where i
cut you
out.

when i'm afraid
everything feels different
breeze feels like waves
and this shredded fleshy spot
short of stitches or band-aids


feels like
stepping out of the shower in the winter with the window open
feels like
pins and needles and
falling onto your chest and having no more air

i've never felt more new
or more unconditionally
irrationally and
remarkably afraid