Sunday, 27 March 2016


could someone define for me balance
teach me trade-offs, color me compromise
i do not know how to position
myself in the middle of
capsizing ship
if it fits, i want it too big
or too small
too much to exist
or too nothing at all

i’ll exhaust every bit of you
with my spider leg limbs
spend an eternity pondering
how low i should dim every
bright light i’ve ever known
either searing or pitch
or it isn’t home
your lips taste like chloroform;
i could choke myself on them
fingers like switchblades;
i think i could die on them

i have this affinity
a tendency
towards self-destruction
joints stretching like days
(like they’ve always been)
either exploding outwards
or imploding in

sound of a spine
pop, pop, popping
twisting shoulders backwards
hang me from my feet
somehow i become less
dizzy upside-down
high from the feeling of
blood rushing up
not to my head, but
to the ground

caustic conundrums
eyes either popping out of skull
or swallowed
stormy seas or sparking sand
i am a metronome
not like a heartbeat
but a convulsion

there are so many possibilities
as to how i take my shallow breaths
in this beautiful world
but none of them are beautiful

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