A Little Dead Thing

This newfound pain is what I had hoped for

A closeted vein, a bolted-cage jaw, widening and filling, swarming me with wasp traps and ivy leaves.

I have never wept for this long, and all at once, my stray seams curl to fit me again

No longer will I search out Hurt and Decay by burrowing deep into my fleshy landmines

No, this pain will pass over me; drench me in its purity.

 

I am no longer a wet thing dampening my bed.

Once I was dog,

Once. Now human.

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