You shattered wineglass. You lump of coal.
You almost, could-have, didn’t-quite-get-around-to-it
failed star. You crack in the sidewalk
that everyone busts their spines trying to step over.
You useless organ that forced me to stutter
when all I wanted to do
was speak the truth clear and proud.
You voodoo limb that gets hurt every time anyone
fails to say “I love you” and instead directs it at someone else.
You bruise between all the other bruises.
You letter I always regret opening.
You autumn tree with nothing but dead leaves.
More often than not I want you gone- ripped from my chest,
disintegrated like sawdust, disappeared like ghosts.
More often than not I despise you like bones despise arthritis,
like children despise magicians who end up faking tricks.
I know you keep me alive, but god, all I want
is for you to keep me sane.