One Week

And you feel like a stranger in skin

Stretched thin over bent knees

There are cracks on your hand
You’ve noticed before
But you want to peel them apart
Tuck yourself in
And fall asleep.

You want to fall in love
With yourself
With your flaws
With your skin
With your ass
And forget your incessant
need to ask
Pretty boys and girls to notice you.

They don’t. And they won’t

And that should be fine
You should entwine your
heart with the love given
willingly. It should be enough.

But it’s not. Why is it not?

Why do you grow trees in your heart
Is it to climb the vines
Hide amongst the branches
And saw off your own limb?

There is a forest fire growing
Underneath a coffee cup
And it won’t be contained for much longer
It’ll E X P L O D E
in fat tears that can fit the galaxies
and the ocean within.

When you were younger
You’d cup your arms around your legs in the rain
call yourself a ship
And sail away.

But this time the current’s too strong
And the cracks are torn wide
And you’ve cut all the branches

It’s not a question of sink or swim
It’s how long do you hold your breath.

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