sewn together with
scrap pieces
no one wanted
and cheap thread.

but sewn together
all the same.

one wound heals
and another one opens.

I have grown tired
of this cycle.

I dream about you, still.
to this day. it's been months.
feels like years.

I dream about your hesitation,
your fear, your want to keep me
            away.

I dream about your melt, how
you can't resist, the way you loved me.
love me. never enough.
          always too much.

you push(ed) me away,
but still,
you always find your way back.

(wait. have waited. will wait.)
(loved, have loved, will love.)

the aftershock
the ringing in my ears
the ache of skin
bone
fingertip

all the nerve endings
deep-fried and severed.

the T.V. static in my head
the running water, the heat
the cold, the fury
the blade

the skin
becomes metal becomes
iron, the bones
paper thin.

I want to dissolve.
I am too heavy.

blood drips out of the bathtub.
the way they twist your arms,
bend your legs in shapes
they aren't meant to make.

the blood seeps in the floorboards.
they paint your skin
purpleblack,
yellowred,
constellations spiderwebbing across
shoulder blades

down ribs
down hips
down thighs

the blood soaks
into the dirt.

put the gun in your hands
trusted you to never put your
finger on the trigger
swallowed the love you
fed me, swallowed the lead
when you left me

fell to my knees,
prayed to a god I
don't believe in.
made a church
out of mouths
that have never
tasted the truth.
found faith in
gutter, found
savior in the
******. confessed
my sins in a gas
station bathroom.
the bible was written
on a napkin and
all it says is how
nothing matters
in the end
anyway.