Hair

I want my

hair dark

like coal

like soot

like filth.

I want to

watch chunks

fall to the

ground

stripping me

free of

old growth

that for some

reason I

become

too attached

to.

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Pruney in the AM

I lay here

on my side

water coming up

to cover only one

butt check,

and it is dark

my skin is

shriveled like

a raisin, yet

I don’t want to

get out. For to

get out means to

start my day,

to leave the warm

water that prunes

me.

And my confidence

plummets,

is this even art?

Do you even care to

read about this?

Have I lost it,

have I ever

even had it?

EAT ME

I wanted to

be consumed.

Licked up in

a pool. Do

I taste sweet

to you?

Binge.

Binge until

your tooth ache

tells you that

you must stop.

And whatever

is left of me

will be

enough.