i don’t want your spoiled worms
or your raunchy scabs.

i don’t want your half-gargled spit.

douse me in it,
call me naive;

tell me i’m your phoenix,
peel the skin off my back.

please lick my cuts clean,
please tell me you didn’t mean it.

don’t scold me when i whisper,
don’t sell me as your muse.

i don’t want your slits of crabgrass
or the fertilizer on your lawn.

i don’t want your hard-boiled compassion.

rip me open,
call me valentine;

tell me i’m your Natura,
bury me head first.

please kiss my knuckles one last time,
please tell me your sorry.

don’t scold me when i scream,
don’t denounce me as your bruise.