by Erika Walsh
There was the year I kept forgetting how old I was
And what to do with my mouth
I climb into the fridge a blue hole
The girl I kiss holds my hair in her fingers
She walks behind me I don’t watch her face
She holds my ribs in her sharp hands like music
His fist held my wrist like creation
I wanted to puke but did not
Some girls get so sweet when they’re drunk
I yell into the phone like my father
I looked like him when i was first born
Black hair slick with the gel of placenta
I used to think there was lots of grey area
I used to make a list of pros and cons
The bruises on my body look mean
I take a picture of my tits in the mirror
I told this one ex about what had happened
He talked about girls who used to reject him
He said it’s like we have opposite problems
It’s not like that I still let him cry
This is about to be the hottest picture ever
Can sex please be a really good joke
We can laugh at our sorrow like candy
We can roll it tight into a bill we can breathe
One thought on “Planet”