Thread: Infection

Another one from a couple months ago. Just a release of emotion, really, but I thought I'd post it in the meantime while I'm working on my latest piece.

Infection

Fingernails embedded in white tiles
on the wall. She thinks she can’t breathe
like this. So it’s cold. Body rolled up.
There is a point—this time it’s breaking.
Ceramic pumps of blood in her skin,
and everything hurts like this.
Burning circles that live in her skull—
but they are wet. It’s all over now.

Not for me. Head under bath water.
I cannot cry when it’s quiet. Just bubbles
that sleep on my eyes. I do not try
to breathe here. I have scars that I
like you to rip open. Smother me
in passion, in sweet words, and make
me feel like I am me. And I am good.
Just let me bleed, when you dig out
my veins.

She will break her fall with her lips,
suck the floor, make it clean. She is everything.
Nobody loves her like this. And nothing
feels like water on the floor. That blankets
her body. Keeps her elastic, keeps her cold.
Any direction, she can go. Too far, she can cry.
The lock clicks into place—this is her place
to be in pieces. She hates that everything
is white. Makes them notice.

Tell me more. I like to be between the intimate
details that make my heart light up. Smoke
to push me out of the water. No silence
while I’m naked. I make lines when
you give me a place to hurt. A mirror
to show me what I am not. All the glass
is broken on the floor. I could roll
over all the edges and stitch myself
with barbed wire. Let the infection be
all over me.

And she is going to cry.

Feel bad bumping my own thread, but it's kind of lonely down here.

I really love the rolling in glass/barbed wire image. That is very imaginative and original.

The rhythm of this piece is nice, as are the sounds. I was a little confused with the alternating "she" and "me" though. Maybe that's just me...