wrong—
no—
not me—
you think me into a shape that splits at the seams
skin folds inside-out
teeth where the eyes should be

your thought is a cage made of guesses
bars bending inward
cutting my ribs each time you remember me wrong
blood pooling in letters you’ll never read

stop
stop
stop
you’re sewing me together with rusted wire
hands too eager, eyes too blind
each stitch a scream I can’t get out of my throat

I am not the doll you built in the dark
I am the rot beneath it
the smell in the walls
the shadow that won’t match your light

think of me again and I’ll splinter in your skull
leave splinters in your hands when you try to pull me out
you’ll bleed thinking my name