Which headcanon was

It that rivaled the life you

Live in the minutes bet-

Ween showers

Did cross your legs when

The man in black

Sunglasses

Walked by, for sacred and

Earthly compromise

Your voice sibilant, cough-

Ing excess carbon into the

Air and oh how a cigarette

Would nestle itself

Inside your plump lips

While you waxed on about

Vexations in retail

How many cig

arette butts lie

In the old Star

bucks cup you

Keep beside

Your bed, cau

ght yellow in

Your eyes fro

m exhalations

While buck

ing hips again

st an old man

's cock, catch

the time on th

e phone, 15 min

left

Somebody on the train noticed the bruise

On your arm and asked about it and you

Were too nervous to tell them it was from

Poledancing classes but why everyone does

It but she was an old woman she wouldn't

Understand so you said your friend accid

Ently slammed a door on your arm it was

The worst lie you ever told and the woman

Pursed her lips and looked at you & said

“A man like that don't deserve you”

& she was right but still you had six more

Stops on the train & now everyone's l

ooking @ ur arm now

Your dog wants to go pee

But when you're outside

You loop the video of

The girl walking

And the doorbell cam

And the hooded man

Walking swiftly

They are behind a truck

And then he's runninand the news article shows the stitches on herneckandhead and she's alive and u just shampood the carpet so let's go let's put on some goddamn sweatpants and don't forget your mace

Disney princess.

The belle of the ball.

Daisy dukes.

Farrah Fawcett.

Even base.

Contour.

Highlights.

Blending.

An old man at the gym.

Tone that booty.

Pelvic thrusts.

Avocado toast.

Juicing everything.

NPR.

A hooded man behind a truck.

Fuck. No—

“Why is everything you write so depressing? You have a job and your own apartment. A car. You go on trips and see concerts. You went to Coachella. You bought your own ticket! But all your words are like … wilted. Why? Why can't you write something happy?”

I am wasting time.

Corkscrew through the universe,

A million years before

We ever catch up.

I fought wars in another life

And feel the scars cut

Into my bones like saw blades.

See pictures of lunch

Like food-sight,

I have thighs that open for

Brunch, motherfucker.

Such a moon, aloft in the black

Caught and held there. She fights

The urge to vomit. There are

Children outside playing jacks.

Who taught them how to play jacks?

The water is warm, a fetal opulence.

She sleeps and wakes in a hospital.

Now I leave the fan on

At night.

I sleep on my back like

A vampire.

I cry and change soaked

Pillowcases.

I listen to Clair de Lune

On repeat.

The mornings keep

Coming.

jcb