LISTEN

I AM TRYING TOO HARD 

TO BE A PERSON 

ALL THIS SHOUTING INTO THE VOID IS MAKING ME NAUSEOUS

ALL THIS GIVING UP IS MAKING ME EXHAUSTED 

I JUST WANT TO BE AN UNREAL BEING 

I WANT TO FEEL EVERYTHING 

WHY DOES NO ONE BLOW BUBBLES IN THE WINTER

I AM GOING TO GO OUT RIGHT NOW AND BUY A BUBBLE BLOWER

AND BLOW SO MANY FUCKING BUBBLES

THAT MY BODY STOPS EXISTING

AND FLOATS AWAY

HELL YEAH

U CANT STOP ME  

u couldnt keep me

i was never a thing 2 be kept
  

there is so much body and there is no harvest. my body is the sea, the ever-arching stretch between the island and the mainland, where i live, pulling my heart between two places. cobbles and tarmac. the foam that brushes my wrists is not gentle and i am grey like summer is grey. i am tangible like my home is tangible: not at all, not breathing. unalive, desensitized, full of feeling. my body sends me soft messages like nerves that are too tentative. like im terrified that my hands won't know what to do with you, given the chance. that given the chance theyll let go. be rain, be ghost, be gone. theres no choker, but everything has a catch. even clouds. we are never stopping, only speeding. when i say lick me clean i mean break me and then kiss me. not whole. not breathing. just us, and all that the word mouth entails. a city springs up where my body exists - LEAVE TOWN AND NEVER COME BACK. and if you want to be in love with me then you should know that i do not have a body. i have an old duvet and the empty air left in a station when the train pulls away. the radio is telling me it's not going to rain for a whole week. my body is all of that rain. listen this is me whispering truths too big for me to hold, too small not to slip through my fingers: im just a kid. i dont have a safe space in my entire body, i dont have the soft kind of skin, i dont have the blueprints for power lines but all my poems spat themselves out and turned into birds. my body is masking tape over graffiti over ruins. the word you looked at until it didnt look like a word anymore.