torn in twos

Poor baby,

Living in this flung world,

wearing eyes I once knew.

You——

sitting on linoleum,

knuckles to bare muscle.

Watch the light flicker

warm and close

I'll stay composed, don't you worry.

So close to the oak,

almost seeping into the floorboards——

into the underworld.

The ashes of my tibia,

take a piece,

hold it dearly,

dye it blue——

remind you of one’s ability to be torn in twos

Do me harm,

so that I may remember what you are.

A NET NEGATIVE.