seventeen

maybe

it’s still inside of me, you know

that big black bullet.

it cut me through,

exposed my shining wounds —

right under the shoulder blades

two perfect slots for keeping secrets,

coalesced with flesh in tender alliance

as i’m convincing myself these were lost wings

i wish i was a butterfly

i wish i could reborn

i’m smoking out my regrets,

each drag for every lie i came up with.

i don’t wanna be stale

a person who can’t look in the mirror on the bedside table   

can i

maybe

stay a writer

for more than a moment? a second?

i counted seventeen sparks in my eyes while they were looking in yours,

can’t tell you why there were so many.

i live one day,

gone like a fly the other night

and i don’t wanna be slaved

to my blurry mind,

i don’t wanna serve this punishment

and i don’t wanna be sick

but it’s all i am

and it’s all i was.

living two lives,

slipping on the edge of reality.

it’s all i am,

it’s all i was.

it’s still inside of me, you know