tired of writing myself weak, punching
keystrokes with cracked fingernails
swallowing second-guesses and spitting them back at you
printing angry poems into wallpaper so I won't forget
on mornings like this, when I wake up with bile in my throat
and I can't remember why
tired of writing myself weak, raking
fingernails over my skin and leaving red marks
and pretending you put them there
I am terrified of waking up on mornings like this
and forgetting you, and forgetting what you did
and having nothing to write about
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