it's weird:
if i were to take a knife,
cut through my thigh
until i can see
the femur,
you'd tell me
"i like your pants"
i don't want to
hear you anymore.
(why am i reaching
out for you?)
i hate it when
you look me in the eye
until you can see
me
then whisper
"i like your eyes"
i am afraid
you will tear me apart
but i am also afraid
of choking on my own words;
so i end up here
(alone) thinking:
i'm not mine.
only God knows
how fast i'm
withering after .
