My shoulders are full
of razor blades
and ninja stars,
sharp sticks
and unkind words.

My back is bent
from lack of home,
songs I don’t know
and things
that aren’t mine
and never will be.

I dream of separating
my body
from my soul,
hanging my bones
in the closet
by my clothes
and hovering
weightless, painless
capable and kind,

but awake
every morning

One response to “CareOregon

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