I found rats in my hair, ***** of yarn, thickly matted
from daytime naps and rough nights of sleep.
run your fingers through this muddy cane-field,
drenched in the swampy summer rains.
My moon-kissed skin, where each freckle is a drop of coffee
the sun spilt on me while reading the morning paper.
it stretches over my broken porcelain collarbones;
edges jagged and protruding like barbed wire.
Teeth I wore down, chewing rocks, eating sand,
and yellowed with acid and smoke.
and my lips are chapped, small, puckered into a constant
apathetic frown. Too dry to smile, that's my excuse anyway.
Irises like drops of paint dripping into thick milk,
pupils stirring them, mixing them into a foul blend of night colours.
and wrists like a battlefield, fingernails like shattered glass,
razor sharp, bleeding bad habits.
Thighs like hot chocolate, melting marshmallows dripping
down each one - drinking me down by the firelight.
and **** like tennis *****, cut in half and slipped under the skin,
two little speed bumps on my body's ribcage highway.
a body like a corpse,
a heart like a zombie,
and a soul like liquid titanium.
and it's all just whispers from the mirror,
whispers I put blind faith in.