with my fingers i trace the matter i am made up of
texture so grotesque i feel hot bile in the back
of my throat.
monstrous lumps of evil
coated in melted wax
the color of ginger milk tea
the taste as bitter as the noxious fumes
from a cesspool of decaying waste
acrid and vile
there is something horrid, something beyond all of us
sewn into the lining that makes me
in a dream i feed the child version of you mashed carrots
and i have to hold you by the arm
because you want so badly to go play
i cherish the softness of the clay you were created from
and cradle you close so that i may be your shield
i am oozing out of you
as soon as the day dies
i am waiting for you to wince
but you never do
if i was a butterfly
i would kiss your eyelids every night
as the pearly moon sits in the sky
in the shape of an open, pleasured mouth
the deadliest weapon against vicious cruelty
is a boundless gentle love that knows no ends
only for you will i work to soften the ground
beneath your tired feet
and fill my gaze with sweet summery warmth
only for you will i bare my teeth no more
if only i was more generous with the abundant love
i held, and hold forevermore
had i held back when i should've
let go when i ought to have
you would still be by my side
but what matters is now
and now i will sweeten all that you consume
and cleanse the streams you fill your
cupped hands with
as you drink from them
in a dream i don't tell anyone about,
i hold the hot mug up to your lips
after checking if the heat was tolerable
by holding it up to my own
i press my hand up to your face
you have no fever
but i'll still take care
not everyone knows who you really are
but don't worry
they will one day listen to me
and keep you in their memory forever
