there is citrus in my ears can someone get it out
These thoughts don’t know how to space themselves
i look for life in the slack moments separating hypothermia
Breath is sunburn against my lungs, titanium on glass,
but i can’t break the rhythm of it
The bedsheets snarl on my skin but won’t swallow
every nightmare that sings vicious velvet over my body
i wish i could parasail over the paragraphs
that draft themselves inside my head,
which feels like the biggest part of me,
the only thing that makes sound anymore
i want to eat the tears for breakfast
maybe then i could consume the memory of what caused them
instead of the other way around
They give me handkerchiefs to fix my eyes,
but it won’t fall if it’s bottled and it won’t heal if it keels
If you’re here with me now,
you must have a taste for terror, a taste to be the tower while i cower
why do you want to swim into supernovas to pluck the asteroid out of my sky
why do you want to get the peanut butter out of my hair
why do you want to stick to my loose fingers
Don’t talk to jellyfish or you might become one
They tapped the Dead Sea and filled my veins with it
Every touchy word floats to the top
If the thinking makes it to my optics i’m afraid i’ll see red
My gut only ever learned how to be in a knot
My brittle wings spent too long in the toaster
My mind has garish wallpaper
where is the incubator
i can see all the places where i’ll have wrinkles when i’m older
but the scar tissue grows in backwards
There’s no blood on my conscience, just spoiled milk
The punctured eggshells were never bulletproof
Can’t stay whole if you’re in my hands, so you’d better get out of them
Nothing sticks to loose fingers
Baltimore Beat is running poems from participants in the group Writers in Baltimore Schools, which offers programming that builds skills in literacy and communication while creating a community of support for young writers.