first,
they killed the old me
now,
they want me back
dig up my body
make my bones
pretty
quick,
quick
too late, I say
I already killed
myself.
again.
—things I do for everybody to end their sufferings
YOU ARE READING
an ocean of teardrops
PoetryI avoid surfaces with reflections, avoid facing reality. At the sea, where I last washed away my scars only to have them appear in different places, different faces. And so I try comforting myself through imaginary conversations with the people I lo...
