sometimes i can’t breathe at 4am
because i’m thinking about how bad i’m getting
and today i think i am glad about it
because hurting is one of the few things i do well
i've been pulling the flesh from the parts of me that are decaying
could i sit by your bed for a while?
i’ve been hoping that your stillness would settle me
and you would collect the parts of my skin
i had torn from myself and scattered on your bedroom floor
maybe you would bury them in your potted plants
so i could flower into the girl you've always wanted
because she was never me
and it hasn't been making me bitter
baby it’s been making me sick.