Poems

Though I bend my knee and bones protrude,

Inside, I am no longer bruised. 

Clasping my hands against my mouth,

Tearing my teeth to the back of my throat,

My screams are lost in the dislodging. 

Knelt down to feed,

Maggots spill from the wound,

Embedding in my skin,

Fueling my hunger. 

Today, I pull my hair.

Tomorrow, I scrape.

The day after, I scalp. 

"Who else here loves me?" I ask,

As lipstick drips,

Eyes sink,

And toenails pierce my shin. 

Who went out the door at 7:02?

Ahahahaha—

Down the vent,

Forever to go. 

Please, I am just too homely to go,

I must stay and devote to God,

For he may cannibalize my soul. 

Bite the curb—

Implode the back of his skull.

Toothless gums grind the ledge,

A sound like Styrofoam crunching.