I collect my teeth like
candy, and I breathe to take less
room and fit into hallways I never
wanted to go down before.
in generous love I stop eating
bones and lick faith from the
kneecaps of old little girls
with holes in their jeans.
I say goodbye like cold anger
and a bottle of rum from the
third shelf up.
this house does not belong
to me anymore,
I am small again
I am looking up to you again,
this time, I spilled mom’s perfume
in my hands,
this time, I haven’t grown past 5’2,
you still tower over me
like a city wall,
like a skyscraper,
like the sun in the winter.
I’ve tried to say goodbye,
I’ve been cold lately,
I’ve been trying to find a way to stay genuine and kind, but I am full of spite that I left in our kitchen floors,
and the crawl space in our old house.
my blood is still left in the grout,
after my hand shook until it fell
and I can still smell the perfume you wore when I tried to kill myself,
and it reminds me of
vanilla cookies that you still make
when it’s chilly outside
and I don’t want to leave
but my anger is too hot to live here anymore,
and I collect my teeth
Packing // e.k.c (via hotaliens)