how long will it take them to realize that behind the lips that stretch across my teeth are bugs and disease. waiting to crawl out. ?

the weight i’ve put on by never eating and then eating when food is offered. a social eater. padding slowly but surely covering my bones. in some feeble attempt to block blows. to soften edges.

the acne sprouting up on my skin, bursting out of my pores, hoping to be freed. more marks marring my mask.

the welts you made with your tongue and your teeth. skipping across my skin. i didn’t ask for them, but they, too, are something i cannot hide. they, too, are something i wish i could scrub off. and something i think i wish someone would notice.

the tattoo my friend gave me. a beautiful stain. the bruises that surround it like the purple thumbprints of an abusive lover.

the bananas on my counter get browner by the day. i’d put them in the freezer but i think i’ll let them rot.

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