Read to me about things i'll never see Imagine I'm sitting up in a hospital bed Cradled by white cotton pillows infused with bleach Empty clear bendy plastic cups sit neglected My usual lipstick stains stayed in the handbag today Your fingertip bruises decorate me instead I once thought: There is no better colour than the colour that they put into your eyes That is the colour of the liquid that they have put in the drip bag I might not be able to picture that colour, but I recognise the feeling of it entering my body Rusty clots and mascara dust barricade it from leaving
Maybe not immediately Or in a weeks time But the cells of my heart muscles are becoming saturated with the juices Becoming preserved in syrup Seized and breathless
I knew that from the very first time I have been a can of something Its label torn off Unsealed and bleeding And we both knew Duct tape couldn't keep that together Still my hands were cupped trying to clasp But now Its embedded under my fingernails.