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fucked up when I see it, and
you’re fucked up every time
I see you. You’ve got to stop. Or die.
“Don’t you get it, Mom? I really don’t
give a shit if I die. What,
exactly, is there to live for?”
Holy crap. Did I just say
that? And did I mean it?
Damn, maybe I did. Maybe I really did.
Mom’s eyes tear up. There’s not a lot
more to say, is there?
I’m your mother, and
I’ll always love you. But
I can’t watch this any
more. Clean up. Or don’t call again.
I Locate the Ladies’ Room
Luckily, it’s empty, no
one to see the vacant-
eyed girl, staring
in the mirror.
Staring at a stranger
who doesn’t care
if she dies. Maybe
wants to die.
Who would care
if I died?
My face is hollow-
cheeked, spiced with sores—
the places where I stab
at bugs. Tiny bugs,
