Till death do us part

written for a poetry class in university, 2020

you once overheard me say that I liked it

(seeking revenge on this body).

skipping past despair

into the blinking flashes of bound hemp,

the concrete sounds.

love means

crying into an empty bowl of cocoa puffs-

to deny the self

and to be consumed in flames.

so circle the things you think are important

when the lights are off

(she waits for the right moment to insert herself).

the kind of silhouette people are supposed to fall in love with

(is it here? hello, can you hear me?)

the contents

of what you packed were written inside the boxes-

you still believe

someone

can see.

(how lucky it is now, to be boring).

I am sick

and you’re mad.

So I will write.