Vacant

Written November 27, 2011

i have become a cavity:
just an empty skull and
a void in my ribcage…
and maybe no muscle,
either, for i’m immobile,
swallowed by a mattress.

all i feel is my weight.

still numb, despite the blade.
the stainless steel coldly shines
as it reminds me of my isolation.
it is my only constant.
it cannot abandon me.

now i have a blood-streaked leg
and a thigh to tell me i deserve this,
this pathetic excuse for existence.

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