I saw a map of you clutching yourself sideways

(after seeing Buddy Wakefield perform) 

A voice that slowly overwhelmed

time, on the day you made me

open & then forget your city of words,

why they bit like jealous newborns,

forcing your tongue to retaliate

with forked language & rebuild

itself over bruises of angry teeth,

the jagged colors a prediction

of when I will be twenty and fucked up

most of the time, writing about clutter

and taking unnecessary breaks, there

will be the skin of your heart I will eat

because there is nothing else, there will be

just your doorbell to ring and wait against

until we’re too sure nobody has listened.

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2 thoughts on “I saw a map of you clutching yourself sideways

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