13.

I am oil and ink
Seeping through pores slickcrawling down my little neck skin
I am leaving grease marks on my clothes and in your hands
Vision blurred and blotted out
Teeth are cracked enclosed inside this lockjaw, I can hear them
Straw hairs fall by one by one by one
Landing on my shoulders and my nose and I just sit
And take a lazy inventory

Stained and dripping black like charcoal soot, breathe in
Coughing up octopus dye and clouds of shattered glass
Turn my head to smear what’s left against the pavement
I am a church forsaken doors still swinging
Vibrant windows now dissolving into pale and still
Hymnal books wiped clean each silent page
Weightless drifting in a brine that pushes at my limbs
In slowest motion, closing eyelids to oncoming ice

I am I am I am
Fine

I am harboring a twisted gumstuck heart
Pumping tar and resin into swollen veins
Gluing up intestines sticky stomach acid turned to wax
Everything is losing steam
Everything is falling out
Lungs grasp feeble almost-breaths constrict
Like coiling pythons numbed and blueish mouth neck ribcage waist
My lips are leaking sea salt water

But skin holds oceans without breaking
I am a circus tent with monsters bloating fabric thin
Stitch it up into a dress that’s faded frayed
Around my waist and draining of its color
Bleeding some old shade of blue all down the front
Come and drink the salt I breathe
The ashy smell inside my mouth
I am eggshell white and vapor vanishing

I am I am I am
Fine

I am
Fine

I am
Fine

I am
Fin e

I a m
F in e

I ami
a m
F fi
n

e

.