p(r)etty death

i am gone, i am condemned
i am small, effortlessly
(i am dying — effortlessly)
there is very little left my bones
are here and go unnoticed — why
is the beauty passed over
if human eyes
are drawn to beauty why
are my hip and collar bones ignored
by you in bed and out
you do not look, you do not see —
you do not care
but you should.
if you care that i breathe you should care about my bones
they are my handle on the world — i hold
my hips to stay grounded
i am trying not to fall
and they are the only consistent hand
reaching out to stop me
reaching out
in the hours after you have given up
after you have left me
my hips fit better in my palms than yours do,
anyway
so who — what am i really in love with
clean effortless bones
sweet effortless death
i like to sleep and cannot wait to never open
eyes or legs again
to your criticism
your patronizing tongue and guiltless eyes —
fuck
i’ll give you a fuck — it’ll hurt both of us
to fuck a skeleton
to be fucked bones
and i don’t want it
your fucking dirt —
because you’re starving, too
the appetite that i refuse to feed
for fear, for anger
for safety
preservation of clean pure bones
not to enjoy something relating to
the body that i hate
not to start to think it might be
worth something worth saving
not to treat the body like it’s welcome
here i am dying, trapped
but i will become a soul
and you can carve my bones into something better
a flute to play the dirge.