linoleum is for fourteen-year-olds only.
i sat at a bench in the mall & counted pigeons
out a glass window. my stomach whirled
like a tornado in a jar. how many hours
can you go without trying to be
a purchase? i practiced kissing my hand.
wrote "i love you" on a bathroom stall door.
wore a studded belt around my neck
but only in my bedroom. listening to
an electronic girl. kittens for sale.
the boys in their desire for rubber.
who needs oxygen when you can have plastic?
a barette in the shape of a cow.
imagining myself covered in star tattoos.
what is the meaning of "before."
i am the formerly wonderful. brown hair
in the closet. a dress as long
as the whole street. corn growing
from every nook of my future.
i toss pennies in the fountain &
wish for sex with a boy who doesn't know
i'm also a boy. soon enough
i'll be able to cut off all my hair.
the universe slips through a hole
in my black canvas shoes. everyone
who is going to love me is a freckle
on the moon. pretzels link arms
in their butter. at home there is
a pile of dead birds on my desk
i will need to sort through &
a brother in a pill bottle waiting
to be swallowed with water.
for now though, i am the glint
every mouth finds when kneeling.
a song on repeat. an aux chord
in the roof of a mouth. no one meets me.
my phone flips open. i take a picture
the size of a fingernail.