if i inject
 enough air
 into my veins
 will i float?
 rise like a
 tired balloon to
 the ceiling of
 my bed room--
 drift to
 the corner
 where the spiders
 build their
 summer homes--
 while i sat
 on the examination
 table--
 feeling like
 a slice of
 deli turkey
 with the crunch
 of wax paper
 beneath me--
 the doctor
 explained
 that i must
 be careful
 to get out
 the air bubbles
 in the needle--
 it's terrifying
 really--
 how less
 than a breath
 worth of
 air causes
 embolism-- death
 by silent--
 hapless air--
 pink bubble
 bath-- blooming
 behind
 my eyes-- i
 open my mouth
 to follow
 the bubbles
 upwards--
 chase them into
 the sun--
 my blood
 boiling into
 steam--
 a red mist
 like the chalky
 lips of mars--
 i leave
 kisses
 on the back of
 alcohol swabs--
 wipe
 away the blood
 from the needle--
 if i die
 like this
 at least
 i'll be lighter--
 at least
 i'll finally
 prove
 the moon &
 the sun are
 nothing more
 than pocket
 change--