September 27th 2018
a blade is held to my skin or
i hold a blade to my skin or
my skin hugs a blade
a love tells me again to get off the internet
so i pick up an anthology about rape
and my chest fills with bees
i suppose they swarm
my aunt describes how the hive
forms a sphere in winter
the queen at the center
as the rest rotate in and out
to keep from freezing
bees understand survival
except they’re all dying or
we’re killing them or
we’re allowing them to be killed
i’m still learning about verbs
i’ve been the object of too many sentences
maybe the blade is a metaphor
this time or maybe it’s a rubber
band snapping against my wrist
i have to admit i like the storm sometimes
sometimes i don’t
i noosed the flowers so they’d stay
with me longer
i’m running out of ways
to song myself
i run or i ran
it’s the temporary exits i crave
we put a rock in the back door at work
to keep it from locking
when we need sunshine
all over our faces
i’ve counted the cubicle walls
in that place 83 in case
you were wondering
i added them up after the active shooter
training we had or
awareness exercise
the cop called it i guess
after he jumped in the room and
pretended to shoot us
we laughed because
dead isn’t funny
but dying apparently is
it’s tense
this rumor of language
each shot across the bow
a girl bakes the cookies
a boy rapes the girl
the cookies were baked
the girl was raped
does being subject sting less or
synonyms for object: thing
article item device gadget entity
target recipient victim
a thing dragged
the blade begs and becomes