do you ever feel like drowning?
will you let me fill your lungs
that I've grown myself?
I'll swallow the thorns that tease,
and my throat will unfold for you,
and I will sink to my knees,
and into my praying hands I will
choke on my own blood,
and every word that I've never said
but should have,
will die with me.
on my epitaph they will write,
could you ever shed your selfish velvet?
and at my funeral
you will suffocate into your
and you will wilt
just as I have.