self administered lobotomy

what is the point of keeping
all the worms in my skull alive?
sacrifice some for the good of the group.
i could go fishing 
in the creek the game warden stock with trout
or i could attract a nice song bird
to replace my radio. i have never been more sane.
in the morning, i spend an hour 
counting my eyelashes. at night
i count again to make sure none were stolen.
all day my stove makes unkeepable promises 
like that he'll take me to disney land or
that he'll make an honest woman of me.
there is nothing honest in my body.
the skull is thicker than i thought.
i always imagined my carapace as lobster tail.
one crack away from flesh.
the butter is inherent to the situation.
there is no dissolving without
melted slip. golden gloss.
i'm trying to fix myself. i'm trying
to be discrete. just like
piercing your own ear. i have
paper towels. i have a blue tarp laid out
in case of disaster. when was the first time
you saw something no one else did?
i saw a dragon perched on the couch 
& he was eating my crayons. an alien landed
on my top bunk. my life so far has been
a series of visitations. i want
a silver moon for my pocket.
i to unburden my lovers of 
all my buzzing. it is hard to sleep near me.
i bring tornados & frying pans.
the grease is enough to kill anyone.
my father used to pat my head & say
"you will be okay sweetie" & he lied
because i wasn't. all my hair fell out
& grew back grey. my teeth danced 
like egg-shakers. an x-ray.
i am a doctor pointing to 
what is wrong. nodding to myself i take aim
& wake up in the bathtub again. 
count my eyelashes. 

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