give me the real axe.
salt & word-warm air. i want
a leg without spiders inside
or a back that doesn't barter
for breath. i look inside
the terrarium & ask
"who are you who i have given
all my water?" the water chuckles.
this is a game i play with myself.
see how much pressure can fill
a lung until destruction.
i was surprised when this winter
seed pods up the street burst,
spreading their desires
all over the sidewalk. i don't remember
how to crave, will someone come teach me.
inside my head is a machine
that measures how much sadness
i can ensure. i build new corredors
each day. i eat with my fingers.
press a hole in the wall
where i'll be able to talk to
the solitary self. "you are safe there,
don't come out." removing your hair
from the drain i consider joining it.
becoming long & dead. the air pressure
has to find a way out somehow.
spitting cherry pits
at the sun & hoping to make
an escape. there is an exit side
on the back wall of my closet.
i press my back against it until
the world tilts & i'm laying down.
take me to target & buy me
a new life. it doesn't have to be
beautiful. i just want a lockable face.
spare teeth under the bed.
lover with eight arms
& a mind-reading device
so he can know when i'm trying
to extinguish a good day.
taste-testing the atmosphere
i have to say it's no where near done.
more sugar. more airplane scars.
i'm standing up again
& walking into the coat room
of someone else's heart.
stripping down to only my socks.
i talk to you through the door.
"i just need a moment," i say.