Growing up, I was stuck in this delusion where
Starving kids in Africa,
Homeless people from all over,
And boogeymen congregated at a large table,
Discussing whom to target next.
Stealing Santa’s Naughty list and
Checking them all off.
One by one.
That list grew ever longer,
Of course it did, my family wouldn’t
Stop having babies.
But they were stuck on me it seemed.
They still are,
Ruining me one year at a time.
Now I know the truth.
Now I know it’s always just been the two of you.
You’re both bandits on the run,
Catching a ride on the train that winds through my mind.
Thieves that steal the tracks after they’ve passed,
Leaving me nothing to fix myself with.
And when I say that you two
Are the tears on my pillowcase,
I mean to say that I cannot exhale
Enough carbon dioxide from my lungs
To rid myself of you forever.
I’ve cried myself dry,
And expelled all my breaths enough
Times to be an empty vessel,
Yet I still find remnants of
Shoelaces,
Glass cups,
And false smiles under
My fingernail when I awake.