Starving my god

Starving my god

When all our hair
fell out,
our skin left us too.
We simply
had nothing left to
contain us.

I was young
when I found
my veins
were balloons
I could cut free and
let float away.

But there were
the bleach walls to trap us.
Antiseptic lies.
This is where
the dead come to die.

For my god was an
infant when he died.

We were skeleton girls,
all bald and bones,
watching our last
pink grow in the sky
like blood in water.
Listening to the beeps
feeding us.


He was always hungry--
my god.
I forgot to feed him
once,
twice,
then on purpose.

At the end
we sit on the edge of the world,
dangle our legs.

The air was full of drifting strings,
let go
by hungry gods.

Death is so much shallower now.
We used to fall forever,
now we just disappear.

I hid from the sky in the ground
and counted back from one hundred.

We hold hands
when my beeps become lines--
smooth and screaming.
Our naked bones
clink together--
grotesque wind chimes.

The clouds are still in the sky.