more random poetry
march 13th, 2000

once every month
by devon koren

something called fear, it sticks in the throat
there's blood on my hands
every month - a small death
he looks at me with hisss teeth
a serpent
hisss tongue
[the scales are just beginning to show]
the venom is working its way through
i hold; i fold
the sweat - poisonous
bitter - words and actions slurred
sleepwalking
one foot crushed by the darkness, the other swallowed whole
the spine collapses beneath the weight of two years
the shoulders snap
[once i wore wings?]
it is numbing
hisss novacane kiss
i sometimes miss the pain when he isn't here
i have been regurgitated
digested
i am shit
he noses through the bits of flesh that once were me
and chews
and gnaws
even my bones wear hisss scars
there is nothing left
but stray tendons
and skin
and still, he's hungry.

once every month
i bleed
and do not die.