I am the coolest girl at the party:
Marks etched into my arms and
Back
Spears sitting in the flesh of my ears and
Tongue
(you can pretend the stretch marks on
my expanding thighs do not exist
if you wish)
I do not eat to live
Or sleep to wake
I consume to contest or do not
At all
Sleep to see something beyond
The bleak blurs of myopia
18 years and no one has asked what I am or was
18 years I have been asked what I will become
as though I will transcend the thin flesh and brittle bones
to occupy some space between here and death
that is larger than both
I’ve expended all of the life I have
Shrinking
Becoming less here so I could be more Somewhere Else
I can only now bleed with
Someone else inside of me
(choke me
scratch me
remind me of my presence
(in your shadow)
I am the coolest girl at the party:
My body is the most
Silent