it's been awhile since i drifted backwards
when you manifest again, like you always do
i feel your calloused fingers stretching, like spider legs
dangling in the back of my throat

my therapist said that it was a form of conditioning.

in 7th grade, we learned about oral ***.
sometimes, a man would fit himself into a girl's mouth
filling her and filling her and only stopping
when he was satisfied
the teacher stopped teaching in the middle of the lesson, eyes shining with apathy
"why are you crying?"
everyone looked at me.
everyone always looks.

you pulled my hair so roughly
i was only a little kid
i was only a little kid

i didn't even gag.
you tasted like cigarettes.

we're so distracted
by how things end, we
usually forget how
beautiful the beginning

the sink is full of my blood and spit
it coalesces and swells into the drain and down into a network of rusted pipes
never to be seen again
its so odd
i release bits of myself into the void
and it's never registered to me before
the organic matter that composites my body, my self
is always in various forms returning to the atmosphere
whether it be my skin cells flaking away from my fingertips
or my blood and spit
disappearing down into a metal case dug deep into the earth
i am constantly becoming apart of everything
but it doesn't scare me
i actually find it rather inviting