loving someone is the most embarrassing thing i’ve ever done
i bake you a cake. i buy knives.
i cut my fingers off one by one.
you ask what made me do that.
i shrug. nothing. everything.
does it matter? do i? the blood
makes a real mess on the floor.
i want to lick it all up like a dog.
i want to eat your shitty heart.
would you let me do that? dig
my teeth into the muscle and
rip it apart like flimsy gossamer.
i think i’d like to go real animal.
we’re out of bandages. i’m crying
now. i bleed all over your carpet.
neither of us knows what to do,
so neither of us do anything.
god and all his skinny angels
lock the gates to heaven
& leave me to rot right here.
an ant under his magnifying glass,
my skin catches fire like a house
i never asked to live in.
a girl by any other name
would be just as easy to chew
& spit back up as a llama’s vomit.
it’s not that i want u to love me again.
i just wish we’d never met.
or at least, you’d forget me.
i keep promising to do better and then i do worse
siri, is it still called relapse
if it happens twice every day?
i want to be so clean i scald you but
my motivation to change is a mayfly.
like a comatose landslide,
a drugged-up marionette, an
old dog too dumb for its own good—
loving how sick i get, i drink
my milk curdled thick.
siri, how do i stop being a knife?
i want to be gorgeously
bright & happy & empty
of sin. i read the average human body
replaces most of its parts
every 7th to 15th year.
siri, what if i’m the missing link?
that thing between animal and human?
i don’t want to hurt myself,
but if i don’t, who will?
helga floros likes being asleep. they have work in occulum, peach mag, witchcraft magazine, & elsewhere. they tweet @helgafloros