restless

i've got claws,
saws, don't you dare
underestimate my needs
to the speeds; pain is
a frame that can sometimes
be in vain, but not this time.

when they were making
our bones, did they construct
the chips? the dips? did they
expect that they would eventually wear?
tear? and when they were arranging our fates,
did they say, "welcome to the gates of hell
on earth?" or am i just being bitter, my mind
flittering in its tight temple?

i loved a man,
and he built me a house.
did he think of it as a home
or as a prison? he said, "this is
our eternity." i tried not to shake as
his lips brushed mine.

when i was making dinner,
i decided to slice up an apple.
the knife didn't go for the red skin,
but rather the red in my finger. he came
rushing in, like a knight, like a monster,
and said - "hold it above your heart."

take it to no man's land;
hold it above your heart and
pray that the bleeding stops
because you cannot feel it,
cannot heal it.

is that how we
wish for our lives?
is that how we see ourselves?
growing old, growing into a home
and ignoring the black hole that has
begun to grow in our lover's lips.