i. wood
sometimes along the margins
of my biology notes,
I draw myself.
almond-curved eyes
and a small chin,
three kinds of purple
knuckles and
a cheesy caption
like "love
is in the air"
or "pondering
the real conspiracy
behind eight-hour
school days"
or the occasional
"look at what
they've done to me"
just look
at what I've done
to you
ii. metal
I want you to
love me
in cruel ways
I want you
to pound me,
your fists sinking
into my smallness,
your tongue violently
ravaging the recesses
of every reason
I fear you
iii. fire
the sun streaming
through my ribs
is warm,
is a creamy pink --
a puddle of self-hatred
tacitly gathering there
above my gut
iv. earth
except that
the faces sprawled
across my notebook
always have
perfect eyebrows,
smile so much
their lips slide down
the pages.
proteins denaturing,
a flock of bacterial
vultures mutating
v. water
I am my own
cannibal island.