drown an old shirt in a moonlit creek
hold it under, cover it with rocks
it should be plaid
but polka dots will serve
leave it there
you don't need it now

cut your fingernails as short as possible
try not to make them bleed
but if they do
that's all right
it's all all right
rubbing alcohol though

you are going to get sad
sometimes over and over again
choke on your own spit, up and out
bite your hand like an apple
till blood leaves for a while

blinking lights like petrified fireflies
on and off, off and on
you are so thirsty always
and the liquid in your veins
might as well be the yellow paint you swallowed
because the happiness wouldn't come
won't come

go back to the stream
there should only be rags left
soft, crumpled, and wet
bind your wounds
cool against your skin
feel the heat of infection settling
and breathe