Her from Herself

vomit all the time, like words and paper cuts. i forgot my name, this morning, when i grabbed the knife. kitchen smells like turpentine. don't close your eyes, don't close your eyes. getting desperate. if they knew what i was thinking they would pull my hair out. everybody knows. from the front down like that, spiral. do it again, i'll do it again. under glass candle prison.


"I know the robins bring you many things, but sugar..."

"we were meant to live for so much more"

"....Oh my God, what am I that these late mouths should cry open in a field of frost, in a dawn of cornflowers."