engulfed by an army of every puncture stirred and crackled by something that needs to be done or a signature I need to obey a module of something of this and that I am grieving for the woman who gave herself to retail, to an office circus to men who looked exactly like her hate
a nap taps my shoulder and I scream
a breath takes wings what am I if not my anxiety?
I’ve outgrown, outreached a scan of tightness controls my soundtrack
after the Zenith, there’s another barbed wire fence to bloody your palms with
when the stray belt of love strikes, finish what you started
we have no rite of passage so we must dig our own and scratch away the dirt we cover ourselves with so that the bite hurts less so that the blood stays pressed up against a body that defeats commitment