My eyes are locked
             on the inside


                where a little white fan
              slows down too much
         leaving the air
     a heavy grey

                                     and I am unable to shift it
                                     with these weak lungs and fingertips,
                                     but I will try

  and I’m ashamed of the dirt
     beneath my fingernails
         and the skin that drapes by,
            peeling away
             to uncover disgusting
                  red sores

                                             

                                      I am convinced there is
                                      a tiny sun
                                      trapped between  
                                      my heart and ribs

                                      breaking and bruising
                                      bone
                                      as it burrows
                                      deep deep down -


           too tired to rise again
                  it splashes and collapses like rain -
                      ripples hard then
                             slow
                   and sinks to the bottom

              where pink coloured
          candy slowly rots


there is not much food on my plate
        and I scrape it into the dust bin
       when I think nobody is looking.


My stomach is full of eroding soap bubbles,
                       dirty old dish water
                                is lending me
                           it’s dizzy dotting views
                               to force my footsteps
                   backwards.


                                  It is never clean in here


I am held on a string
                and I am swung
                       round and round,
                         hair covers my eyes
                  and I can’t see the stars

                                           [but if I could,
                                            I would rename them Lies       
                                            and help everything in that direction
                                            all slide away]


I think it must have been wires
                             holding my ankles upside down
                                        because it cut through my feet
                                        till my face hit the ground


                            and it let out a sound
                     kind of like
               my name:


blunt and
caught
in-between.