I lost myself for you. I dug my ribs out of my own
chest and planted them around your house.
I pulled my intestines out, inch by inch, and wrapped them
around like Christmas lights in the tree in your front yard.
They told me that love was being beautiful for someone,
being ugly for someone, being better for someone -
they never told me that it meant being me, so
I lost myself. I do not mean to be gruesome
when I talk about how I loved you -
but this was all I knew. I only
knew how to be a vulture, standing
over my own rotting carcass on the side of the rode,
picking myself apart.
Savagely tearing my own body out of the turkey
on Christmas Day,
making a wish over myself, I ripped my wishbone body in two.
I wished that you would love me forever. I lost myself for you.
When you did not love me forever,
I did not know what to do with my remains.
I am a better ghost, now. I never knew how to be human.
I never knew how to not give myself away.