i breathe blood in the mornings
when i remember i'm a woman.
when i remember the flames never exhaust
and for some reason, that means i'm burnt
toast clogging up your nose.
when i remember i can't
shed my lacy meat without
the stench of butcher hands following me.
when i remember my eggs are
ripe and the yolk is runny no matter how
many times i scream at it.
when i remember there will always be
a but, a calm down, or a show me a smile
pleased to bury at least seven letters down my throat.
when i remember that tasting
the sea is more acceptable than
skewering stars into my skin.
when i remember to be invisible
until someone chooses to slice up my
heart in exchange for a few petal pistols.
still,
my skin is impossibly itchy,
the soil continues to fill up my throat,
and i mourn the wires that replace my veins.
you wouldn't last a day inside my head.
YOU ARE READING
if i'm alive, it's because i told the truth
Poetryshort poetry collection from 2023.
