she was never good at breathing
it was a burden of her life
and when she blinks, her eyes are sunbeams
her eyelids like a knife
cutting sustenance with severance
my body dies and wilts
with blisters and with open sores
her mind is like a welt.
she could never really think,
she could only think about thinking.
with her body, stale and hollow
taking water on and sinking.
and she could never really dream
she could only dream about dreaming.
with her soul, like boiling water,
stewing, fuming, and steaming.
so i instilled a parasitic thought
to eat through all her skin;
an acidic, viral, chewing dream
to wash away her sin.