inside’s out

if you were
to slice open
my belly
a flood of
half digested
verses
would seek
to drown the
entire plane
if you were
to crack open
my skull
it would throw
projections
of her smile
onto every
available surface
and if you were
to spread open
my ribs
you would
release
the sparrow
that sits
contentedly
trilling
odes to
the sun
as captured
in her eyes

i am just
a collection
of scraps
held together
by scars
tinged with
equal amounts
of coffee
and of her
dripping prose
into the aether
morphine
directly into
the vein

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