a poem

you became a metaphor in my mind for decency during disfunction
whilst gobbled by cacophony, you played with your toes.
i watched from a distance, nurtured by your nature
cars skid out of the way while I grin and clap to your song and dance
swirling our minds, we draw our lives and you give me your body for change,
I fear reversion but I am taken by your offer.
We romanticize about leaving our loving lofts for a cabin in the woods.
You zoom in on my seeers
and I respond in the only way I know how;
by shoving wooden swords into your swollen flesh
and leaving you to bleed until you are gross to me
you gave me flowers and I showed you adulthood.

I play my dead girl's sonata as eye drops hit the bed
you are still alive, but memories still writhe
through my maggot infested mind.
you can't stop picking them out for me
there is something written, "it is all in motion".

I have no incentive to return
you keep me wacky and my arms are growing legs
to laugh against, lovely little girl.
Come into my water maker, stay with me forever
we will regress to handheld childrens
and make it so we cannot feel ever alone
but when you're jumping the bones,
are those whimpers or moans?