There are no more ways to feed me.
I wrote you the most beautiful bowl of fruit;
but my words were twisted up in
the flames of your
nodding its heads under
We are made up of the same piece of sky.
And I can’t leave, you can’t leave,
we’ve tried; and
we’ve tried to mix up our miseries
and we can’t even do that right.
I will look for you
in the crowd of my personalities.
Hold me, hold us, hold, don’t stop.
You are the vast ocean, but I’m every drop.
Swallowing your anger
is an empty pill that
makes me hungry.