on a secret blog i type ANGEL ANGEL ANGEL ANGEL ANGEL
my body is a bad theory i live inside

like bleaching my hair to look like courtney love is somehow less embarrassing
if i keep saying how embarrassing it is
like how there are a lot of poems about gin and green tea and not a lot about family-
sized bags of chips
even though i know what poets' pantries look like
like writing an essay on how the body can't or maybe can but shouldn't be an essay
like how i dip my chin for red-eyed naked hysterical leftbook selfies
like i apologize for apologizing so much

there is no right way to have a body but i am always learning new wrong ways
is that blood no it's lipstick no it's both
i want to wear bruises like pearls and say oh this old thing?
if anyone asks which no one does
some synonyms for 'politics' are 'interpersonal dynamics' and 'screaming'
first order desire is: i want to watch myself from the third person
second order desire is i want to stop wanting that
i want to throw a drink in someone's face
if not agency at least anecdote suggesting agency
camera zoom out slo-mo splaaaash

i want to follow a thought
through to the end
unknot its thread

i will knit you a scarf and the scarf will be very, very soft
despite or because each stitch
is the violence i am working with
synonyms for survival may be 'desperation,'
'dissociation,' 'creativity,' 'obstinacy'
depending on the story you tell yourself.

touch me the way initials touch a tree.
please. deeper.