white fang eats the sun

displeased with my tenderness and upset with the mess from my heart that lies quivering on the plate in a pool of yellow ooze

in the wolf’s den i licked the flame and now i must draw closer. i’m sorry for this, for the cavern that yawns in my throat (it begs to be fed and nothing in the fridge will fill it) and shame takes a soaking form that reflects like a promise in the bathtub drain the pool the night the goosebumps the shower the kitchen sink

the moon reflects the mirror and the bathroom still stinks of bleach. i want to go back i want to go back not to the place but i want that feeling that folds up in my chest and makes me think of october and of a girl who isn’t dead cause she never existed so why do i mourn her? she’s laid out in an apartment or in a two bed one bath i ache to go home i ache to be sewn to the sun so it can never leave me again. when it sets i want it on a string i want to know its there and that it thinks of me too the moon, the sea

if i’m being honest i am displeased with how soft my underbelly has become. the dullest knives cut right through it

i feel like an idiot beautiful so how am i still living nine and wishing to feel more of everything like the sun burns the earth i lust to hurt

i come instead as white fang licking the flames and returning to man so i will watch the sun from afar. my needle and thread could never pierce light