Work Text:
have you eaten your failure
today
by a hand that create
nothing but wound?
—sometimes you tear your skin
put it there
sometimes you sit silently
inhale it whole—
does it have benzedrine's
smell of air
of freedom
a revolt against society?
you don't bother, nevertheless
—your other hand limps
yet it is ready to clutch
to choke
to create a death body.
do you eat a failure, darling?
an eager tongue touching your palate
it was
a trace of yearn,
memories should be forgotten,
an accident
—your silent mouth said.
but darling, can it be an accident
if you repeat it frequently
as if
taking medicine by a form
of benzedrine?
you throw your choices
you keep eating failures
you deny reasons—
want changing
want believing
want to be out of ordinary.
but not to mend, not to make a whole,
not to finish!
because you don't care someday
failure will taste of a piece
of broken glass upon your tongue.