trigger warnings: before every thought

i may want to look away before i think.

last night i had dreams of fingers linked; that moment deciding
i would not be
this flower-scented thing. this warm,
deep space for your enjoyment, a body, oppression
incarnate, i cannot think,
such contraries.

why is there
such symbolism in red?
it is a color that kills you
with its reality
by inches.
what i need is to scream.
give credit where it is due, this
brutality
can never exist outside of

how long until i ceased to allow myself
to be resigned to hell?
i wonder, as i dip my fingers into the pool
of water that lies
along the ridge of my collar bone. i am curious
of all the things the dictionary claims
do not exist.
when my fingernails gouge into my cheek
i realize i’ve begun to
equate food with death.

there are three hairs in the indentation
beside my kneecap, untouched by
my razor.
i left them there to spite you with my humanity.

Advertisements

1 Comment

Filed under Uncategorized

One response to “trigger warnings: before every thought

  1. you always know how to end a poem with a zinger, little sister.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s