I rudely request, require and desire a refrain from chronic pain

because this belligerent, bony, buss-down bundles to her buttcheeks b*tch

is insane, bringing broken bridges and invisible incisions,

A squatter lives in my shoulders

she tore down the drywall

and built boulders,

armor for words of judgement to pierce less

That feeling of foreigners invading my temple

hunts me.

I am hunted by emptiness behind the detectives’ eyes.

I am hunted by the ugly yellow linoleum floors

I desired to be pillow, soft and unassuming.

Nobody hates pillows.

If I could stuff my tummy with white feathers,

there’d be enough cushion, enough down

Forget the men who saw buds on your chest and declared them breasts.

Forget the rain showers and the smell of hot guilt rising from pavement.

Forget the new moons in the sky, the clouded nights of hidden stars.