i can feel the string threaded beneath
the thin skin on the inside of my wrist
it is my substitute veins
full of nothing but nothingness (so sim
ple) and I want to burst in to
a million trillion pieces of brightly colored
tissue paper that is not meant for noses
but the string becomes tighter
and tighter
and tighter still
until I feel the cotton ***** stuffed down my throat
and my lungs are constricted and set aflame
I can not find my sharpened scissors
let me check the other drawer