3/7/22

Handprints upon paper to ensure my life

does

not end with me and I know this may

burn in

the candle’s flame

because I can’t

always remember

to put it out

does this make me

careless I hope not

I hope you can see

I am just trying to

sleep I am trying

to swallow the

mulch it tastes

like your skin

and the slices atop

my tongue feel

like the nails

you gunned into

my cheeks with

the pads of your

bloody fingertips

— ODH