to cope

i wear an orange lightning bolt
around my neck, Saturn’s rings binding
my fingers a secret
on my wrist.

i drink molten ash
in hard swallows, liquefied guilt dripping
down my windpipe a flash
to solitude.

i hear everything; a hiss
in time, the breaking point
against my skin a wrinkle
in the universe.

i forget your mouth
on my jaw, ocean salt stinging
you on a high to forget
me and everyone else.


maybe i don’t fit into you the way i thought

i changed
my locks for you and put the keys under
your mat, you promised

they’d be safe but i haven’t seen them
since you invited me into your grasp

did you lose them inside of yourself?

i tore one out of my rib cage and
the other out of my side, the last one
came straight from my chest

i had to pick at my skin and scratch
underneath the surface but i felt
alive and my blood was

on fire with hurt and happiness
all at the same time for the sake of that
safety i so graciously gave away

to you so perhaps you should dig
deeper, check your hands and your hips and maybe
even your collar bones, check in all of the places

you have been hurt
before and if you find
that you are empty know

you have lost a part of me
while you were searching
for yourself