Asphyxiation on Thy Own Teeth

Poem Before The Summer of 1936
New York is not a beautiful place.
I hate the city, it makes my insides rot and my teeth
start to melt in my mouth. The Rape of Belgium makes
my mom cry. L’Stranger would have made my father
want to die (my father did not know how to cry.).
Cognitive dissonance is all that is left as the skin is
pealed off, I am left wondering if this means I am
mid-metamorphosis or just past my prime.
Stop fucking touching me. Take your fingers out of my
mouth, I don’t know you. Get your fingers away from
the only thing that separates my grandmother and the
virgin Mary, i can’t fucking stand the virgin Mary.
‘Please Kill Me’ is etched into the womb.
The womb is just carcass, dead meat to be sold by
the pound. Meat is at all over my body. Pain, terror,
tears, delirium, orgy, fever, then death.
ils rongeait jusqu’aux os
et ne voulant pas perdre un si beau morceau
se disputaient la carcasse