the slides in my projector
have decayed
leaving fragments of
torn glass in my mouth

the cuts taste like new life

sometimes ascending
destroys everything you’ve ever known
because you want it to

talk to me in the shallows
and I’ll most likely projectile vomit
and act like nothing even happened

either that or I will hide
in the corner of the bathroom
until I’m ready to let your words
shoot straight through me
without sticking

your thoughts reek of boredom
and its infusing into me
I’ll try not to send the projectile your way

give me something real or stay out of my way.


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