Everything’s broken glass

Sirens, fire, and live wire

Alarming, and confusing

Since you know that nothing cuts,

Shocks or burns,

If it’s untouchable



Two things I’ll always wish for

Mumbling prayers into my pillow

Turning back and forth and sore

With guilt, since I’m a lucky one,

All things considered

Just a couple, but they’re greedy

One: a little more of what I lost, and

Two: a little less of my disease


I tried to show you when you asked
If I could walk or bleed, that yes,
I can—the same as you,
But you never let me, already fixated on
My differences instead

I loved the way you smiled at them,
So I hid the scrapes and put my legs away
For good, while you painted the place
You thought I came from, drafted theories,
Diagrams of what I might be
And I let you, and forgot myself,
Like you forgot your question

Then today, to my surprise,
You asked, “Who are you, really?”
And I wish that I could tell you
That by now I’m just a fairytale
You sing yourself to sleep with

Oh Well (Just a Little Bitter)

Not sure why you bothered to bring
Your name into my life (well, sort of) again
Since you won’t say mine,
Not even to have The Talk
That’d clarify we’re strangers,

Don’t mean to spite, it just reminds
Me of pointless habits
Dates I tried not to remember
And your secrets that I sheltered

Not to be petty, I just really wish
I’d found another name,
Habits made for someone (anyone) else
Between you and now
Oh well

Open Casket

Closure is a coward’s way of robbing graves,
Of trading bones for flowers—painted colors, never wilting

Closure is a clever way of treading over mourning,
Of rewriting loss as less—no one left,
Nothing fit for grieving

Closure is a lie—a way of only trading death for dying
Slicing scars, and feigning smiles since
We can’t speak ill of corpses never buried