writing
as though i was adrift, i find you, bloated with chunks taken out like a fish.
i wish you had a different face, one i only saw in passing when visiting another city— yet still lives in my subconscious, only to be taken out of hiding for the cast in my dreams.
i can feel my skin sloughing off like yours, my eyelashes burnt at the follicle, it's like the bikini atoll all over again.
i wish i never found you, i wish i never nursed you like you were my own, your suckling infected me with that very same blight.
my skin, stapled back on, won't ever seal back up, i am not 16 anymore, but you didn't know me back then.
forlorn elation
how i wish you could see what i did
to that redolence of yours
never mine, you took that gravity
that black hole of yours
insatiability, you’re my first/thirst
