A Poem

I haven’t written a poem since I got here

Somewhere there are graveyards full of words I keep buried


I curl my body against his, fetal position

I am working back to a warmth I will never know

When he bends his body away from me

I want to say

Me too

I am a scab I cannot pick away

Watch it fester and


I am spiraling

And it burns

I want alcohol, bleach, cyanide

Something to clean my insides and take that sour taste out of my throat, out of my life

Red rimmed eyes see farther

At night