I will break my bones, crack open my joints,
fit them in a suitcase and leave without a trace.
I will move to a brand-new city,
smoke a new brand of cigarettes,
wear clothes
nobody has seen me before.
The girl you are looking at is not a girl
She eats brick with her cracked teeth
Her tongue is a scalpel, mouth cement
Her body is skeleton and flesh.
Dirt caked beneath nail beds,
Give me more of that
Madness, hunger, ruin.
Madness-
for the love of god, give me more
Enough to throw away my name,
Burn my gowns, and not to be tamed.
Hunger-
for the love of god, give me less.
Make me so small I fit inside a lunchbox
For someone to swallow me open.
Ruin-
for the love of god, cut me into pieces
just like my mother slices apples into meats.
Give me more of that
Madness, hunger, ruin.
Asmita Mehefin likes to look at the moon and write poems and compare how the celestial bodies are similar to the web of life inside our own bodies.
