a thread tied around
my rib
holds me in orbit.
the other end
grows through
your palm.

like black holes
and wishbones
we fracture.

you keep most
of me
and I wish for something
better.

space is emptier than I remember.

sand to glass,
time as waves,
moon pulls,
and I decay.

a castle under
your palms,
make me into
something more.

when the ocean swallows
the sand,
does it make a sound?

scream how you hate me
until your throat is like your knees
when you skid across gravel.

my name should be
sour in your mouth,
the syllables needles
against your lips.

break your teeth
over my bones.
rip my skin
open and swear
you love me.

the guilt should be
cancer in your lungs,
moving in waves
of shame so overwhelming
you turn blue.
but you've always been the good guy,
haven't you?
dressed in white
you condemn me.

take all that I am,
it doesn't matter any more.

"have I ever done anything to hurt you?"
"no."

somehow I am always the sorry one.

for dinner I took all of your teeth
out of the drawer and crushed them up
into a powder and let it dry out my tongue.
you shouldn't have left your smile with me.
I dumped all your leftover fidelity
out onto a plate and ate it cold.
left on my tongue was
sour styrofoam
from the back of the fridge.
the same taste as when
you'd stick your hand out
of the car window.
some things never change.

when Uncomfortable comes,
he crawls in through my mouth
and makes a home on my tongue.
his breath stains my numb teeth
and burns the back of my throat.

when Uncomfortable asks me
to stay a little longer,
with his frail hands over mine,
there is only humming and I am
back in front of the tv, watching static.

when Uncomfortable stands
with his arms out, in the shape of a cross,
there is only smoke filling everything
as I bow my head and pray
to wake up free.

marbles in my throat
and beetles in my shoes
take my hands
and pull me apart.

marbles on the floor
and beetles in your skin
pick up my hands
and glue me together again.

glass in my veins
and spiders in my hair
hang me upside down
and drain me out.

glass spilling on the floor
rusty cotton candy webs
put me right side up
and stuff me full again.

grey honey on my lips
and coal in my mouth
take this poison
out of me.

sad honey on your lips
black where your teeth should be
give the poison
back to me.

I forgot to pull out my hair today.
it is termites in my skull
that I can't poison.
they talk to me but
I do not understand.

I forgot to tear off my nails again.
they are pieces of glass
growing under my skin,
that sometimes are pretty
with pinks and bruises.

I forgot to break my teeth tonight.
they are calloused stones
that grind up my tongue,
making my words
sound like spaghetti.

I forgot to press the button today.
the red one that says,
'self destruct'.