She asked me what it was like

and I told her it’s like bike chains
eating your fingers and then being forced to ride again

it’s like pulling out 
your organs so they
can make you put

yourself back together
like bow ties 
being made out of your 
tongue but they still expect

you to smile because
crying is only for the young
girls who’re asking for it,
lying on the precibus between 
used and won, she asked me

and I told her that if I took the 
sky and pushed it down her throat
she still wouldn’t have enough stars
to count the screams, they quote
Shakespeare for jokes and keep
your hair in their hands

pulling out the strands until you are
unwoven, I tried to tell her in all the voices
how much hate can be sown into everything 
ever spoken, the way that love is
deceptive and nasty like
attempted rape and piss-stained mattresses