92.

your thorns press atom bombs into my skin
purple pricks in white cream
blemishes blooming

and I am growing tired
of telling you:

you are hurting me
you are hurting me
you are hurting me

and your teeth shoot poison
darts between your lips
I catch them on my eyelashes
and underneath my fingernails

you do not see the feathered spines
in my flesh, and you ask me
why my throat is swelling

I lose track of language
my tongue lolls with a frothy thump
thick and useless

and all the while
your thunder rolls
and wildfires sprout
like angry flowers
in my hair

and you wonder
who has done this
to me