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The yous who inhabit my poetry"have you met me?"The yous who inhabit my poetry
and i laugh, because i see you painfully alive, sharp and arrogant, as yet uneroded by our shared flaws which are now sunk deep and lonely into your liver.
Not you, reader, sorry - though I'm sure we share some greeds and indiscretions; a heartbroken girl sleeping in the back of our father's banged up car, some dead cute thing in hand. In this dream we become siblings, reader, conspirators, friends that hate each other's guts.
I dig two nubby fingers between my ribs and with a wince pry out my heart. Smaller than expected, it fits as a smooth stone
by ~Mynnan
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