Used

There is a crack,

a break

along my side

tracing up my

hips and waist

and from it spills

my goop, nectar

my ghosts. Pouring

out like a slow

heavy leak in a

syrup bottle,

a sticky mess.

Are you only

here to eat it

up? To steal

my sweetness

that drains?

Did you think

I wouldn’t know,

wouldn’t notice?

How do you

think I became

broken in the

first place?

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