I miss my cats andmy mom.
I am dead.
My edges are sturdy
but inside, i crumble likefour day old pie crust
that someone left in the sun,
only when someone stares
he makes me feel like a psychopath, like I'm raw and full of sin -
that shows red in the light, something like guilt
I can feel my body whipped,
shrunken in every hollow he left,
ragged and lacking precision.
He attacks like a dog would,
and chunks are gone from me.
The sin he dips his feet inhas to be me - filthy, sparkly thing,
a piece of broken glass
that he's stepped and
bloodied his feet on..
This lingers like a spiderwebafter the spider has been killed,
like my heart has been squished.
I dance on the roof,it shines. Later, you
look at me like you
would like to watch
me die as I bleed all
over you. I am not dying
but I am lying in bed
Yellow does nothing for meexcept remind me
that it's time to end sleep