What do you mean? Shedding your skin and consuming it for nutrients is essential! The essentials, love breath and fire. I breathe fire when I speak and sometimes even when I mean to speak water. It bubbles up boiled. I like my shoes soiled. Don't un-scuff my scuffs. I put funhouse mirrors in the parlor. At least this time I can laugh at dysmorphia. I wonder what it's like to be morphia. I've tamed by brain since Tuesday. It's a no- shoes day. Scuffs all around. Scuffy, scuffy feet. Blisters like the wind. I'm hands and feet. Everything in between, obsolete. I'm brain sometimes too. But mostly feet. I need to ground myself. I've never been grounded, but I live in time-out. How do I flip time from outside, in? I fold each minute with the rest of the laundry. Bleach only. It's 10:55 somewhere. Some of somewhere is here. Some of it is elsewhere. Congratulations, it's brain o' clock! My psychiatrist rewarded me with a handshake. I'm finally touchable, within reach. I still shake in my sleep. I can put my thoughts in my pockets and save them for later. My pockets still have holes but there's a second layer. Antipsychotic or timeslayer?

Once you have a heart raw in your hands,
it's easy to draw blood
it's heavy, gory,
content to be cradled
But tell me, how do you put a heart down without hurting it?
Do you store it in a drawer? Will it keep fresh for later?
Do you lay it on the grass to decompose on its own?
Or do you pass it onto the next pair of unsure hands?
Blood leaks through my digits with every tremor
I take the heart in my hands and put it back into his
It's the ghostly familiarity that hurts
The blood stains my hands and the weight tires his
I love and hate the emptiness, my arms become light and turn into wings
But I didn't ask for them and I don't know how to be grateful
On to the next blood

My life feels like it was built on broken promises
Old stones stacked precariously as they were put
Ready to crumble for the next person to bring me to, ruin
Scattered stones turn to gravel and sand
And I become something people can reach, touch
I'm not a mountain, I'm a landscape
I spread my branches
And I'd rather grow outwards than upwards

I swear you make thunderstorms run up and down my spine
electricity,
tornadoes twist around my mind
I'm soft aggression like the wind
and I can't abide
But you like the way the wind runs its hands through your hair
You like my breath of fresh air
We mold into each other
Yet we pretend not to care
You close the door when it's raining
But you look out the window and stare
You long for adrenaline and dewy kisses
You keep the door closed and miss this.

I would have taken you in pieces if you'd have me whole
I would have taken your shatters and put them on a pedestal

Your presence is ever existent like the aloof sliver of a moon-
perseverating, too
I don't know why you affect me so much but you make me crazy and cold, full and warm
You are everything I didn't ask for.

And by the time you realize I'm exactly what you've wanted, I've begun to realize you're exactly what I don't.
Pity how time and harsh storms will weather a headstone.

Give me my name back
get it out of your false mouth and keep it out of your head
I'll take my naked body back from your dreams and my laughter from your unevolved heart
Before you put my name in your mouth to swallow it whole
Before you could bite off more than you could chew
Your name fell out of my mouth like old bubblegum, glue
And out of my head like something I never knew
I can feel my name on your teeth
The film on your smile
As if I'm every sip you take
Alcohol, poison, mistake
When you tell everyone about me, tell them how I was never yours to claim and give me back my name