listen-out, i’m dust
someday there is going to be a big yard and i will beat you to it, bathe beneath a tree or a breathing body of light but
i made myself bleed so i could cry beside you
our met kiss was wet-lips but no touch; we took a break to stare at each other in the rib-cage, i was trapped in.
so you’d find god, not a mother
i follow myself across a blameless bridge and dig my toe into the part of the plank that’s breaking in
do not pick at my irises
nothing burns like a bitch's fangs playing father in the skinned backseat. we're all watched-out, enough now.
i will tell you goodnight instead
i’ve been a stoned fool, cold, breaking-out at the melbourne airport bitching about being a sad seven-year-old
gagged girls at a gas station. we’re remembering everything
gagged at the gas station. salt said she is sweeter scrawny