Two Frogs*

Sort of Slimy

It takes me to places

with the sickly sweet smell

of trailer trash sharpie art;

I want to die but wake up looking back,

watching the mirror drink in my reflection's

pool of pink, it's crawling at me:

it can't contain

the foul and sated

welling within

so I claw and I starve and I cut and I purge.