Trigger Warning
this morning
suffering’s no more than words
a rectangular world
pulls razor wire across the doorframes
to keep her in unbloodied
content to be uncut
unscathed by harsh sentences
she just wants to speak so
she splays open like a wounded ibis
to display her scars hidden by daylight
running the length of her brain
but can’t find words
so she sits with her breath
to reassure herself
rearrange herself
evaporate herself with breath
to co-exist with connections
to things she’s seen or never seen
absurd movements of sleeping people
collide with her verité
she keeps them at a mirror’s distance
and pushes away their open jaws
of impulsive hunger
while digesting a good inappropriate joke
laughter buckling breath
over a breakfast bowl