Surveying 31 days of scars
An infirmary for words
Just shoot them as they sleep
I cannot bear their needy countenances
for another day
I gilded my tongue with water from the black flask
Now everything I say is the absolute truth
Even my dream self points a finger
Muttering sideways to its brothers
At how changed I am
The stain of words prints my bedsheets
with a map of meanings
I am too weary to decipher
I must break all my fingers
Before they scoop out my eyes
So tired of seeing everything
in the light of my own heart