i have spent many nights awake
analyzing each pigment of my skin.
scrutinizing the curves, and shapes, and circles it forms.
i guzzle chloroform.
and bathe myself in coconut oils.
but none of this will diminish my wrists.
yes, my wrists that are too big around,
that i wish were much more petite and fragile
and less pronounced.
and the skin on them to be smooth as the summer breeze,
but in my head at midnight i can realize what's been right in front of me this entire time.
i could never go to africa!
i don't know if the clouds there would billow as foreboding as the ones above your small 2-bedroom house on leopards street.
i can never help you pack up your things.
this is not a part of yourself you want to share with me.
i can never trust you completely.
i can never tell you everything i will never be.
darling, this is scaring me.
something frightening is happening to me.
chug your can, drown your sorrows.
i'll sew my lips and pray it will be better tomorrow.
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