how to get better

a poem

how to get better

honestly, i dont even know.

disappear. run

from everything you once knew.

throw your tenderness out from the sunroof. watch it splatter between the potholes that the county refuses to fill. they remind you of cavities, e r o d i n g from the acid in your mouth, the rotten words

that were spoon fed to you. but you still blame yourself,

because you swallowed.

do not be stagnant. swim before the mosquitoes

living amongst you lay eggs on your tongue. once the leeches drain you of blood, it will be much harder to leave. to start over. i know you want to forgive them. to allow them to swarm back into your life. but can you feel the tread marks on your bruised cheek? the ache they keep digging their nails into? the scab will never heal if the wound is from the parasite within. the one that you allowed. you must gut everything that you once were to begin again. comfort is compliant.

i understand that the blanket of moss growing over your corpse is comforting. it is easier to sink than tread, waiting for someone to jump in and save you. it took years for me to discover that no one was coming. you were born alone. you have to learn to live alone, before the grave swallows you up. alone.

limbs rooted in violence, anger is all i know. i was born

with sharp teeth clawing my way from the womb

pulling myself up by the bootstraps coughing up everything

they told me i couldn’t do. all the tar i’ve swallowed, all the asses i‘ve kissed.

don’t let them swallow you whole.