Sanity For Two

A train of suicidal participants. They all live.

Remember one time, to surprise me?

Of my gouged small intestine- one tied to the north pole and another to the south pole; a perfect game of jump rope for everyone inside the globe.

An explosion interlude when the crocodile clippers paste a tongue and copy voltage of deep, deep space; splattered brain membranes, followed by tiny shards of skull glorified to numerous fragments- all tasty for the appetite of my cat and its kittens.

Remember sticky glowed stars and brittle cuts of hairs that revealed like an art gallery. Stolen curtains were patched over my dresses' skins. They make fun of those dresses but the inside of my head they wouldn't dare to comment.

It wasn't pleasing to clean the tiles with scratches but those tiles were just too dirty.

A clean sheet wasn't messed by wet dreams, it was from the side effect of prescription pills.

Remember? A 5-year-old, testing her mother's patience. A choke of candy would terrify me if it wouldn't get digested successfully.

Remember, remember. And I didn't want to (at least for not that long).

Super glue slept between my eyelashes, but the sense of sight tore the glue thinly.

Remember? Yes. I remember.

I remember why it's important for me to continue living.