no one will hear this --
these sounds that rise up.
the insulation is thick now and tight skin will break,
and when it does - doors will tumble down
and walls will not hold
all this inside.

there is not enough lifeblood in this place, where vocal chords itch,
they scream, they swallow breeze blocks whole.

i pretend it's alright, with one eye closed, i need about a thousand hugs
though i should not ask. i have lies to keep and secrets to tell
but have not worked them out yet.

aubergines leaked into my skin to warn me --
i am not a nice person, running through doorways
with my feet slapping stone. if i had the courage i could cough up all the words
i keep gagging on, but arent always present.

after a few fuck yous sliced bone in half, the words slide down
into my outter thighs - i think i got the point,
found in places not worth swimming for.

no matter how far my fingers chase after it
this timebomb just wont go away, it wallows like volcanos,
waiting to rupture so my heart can do this great escape
as loud as it sounds on the inside
of fleshy windows.

and now i have bullet holes in my legs, i was aiming for my head
but could not find it anywhere. from today i am bedbound
with not even enough sadness to keep me warm
and it's nobody's fault but mine.

i have dirt in my cough that will not scrub off,
but i try anyway. with sweeping brushes, a metal sponge,

my nerves are so raw.