Misery, from Grief Lessons

so this is grief

days so swift
but mourning never stops
and I am ashamed of my tears
a mouth full of disappointments
with folds of regrets
between my teeth

I swear I can tell you names
but butcher knives are stuck in
my throat
but my tongue is speaking
in an ugly language
no one knows

and I am my victim

my body has lived for centuries
and I have been wearing nothing
but my mistakes and their dispraise
my purples, blues, and blacks

with all of these vintage bloodstreams
no longer functioning—

I accidentally killed my sense of self
and the body is in my trunk.