run after the bus,

it's going away without you again.

did you forget the last time?

the way the rain fell into your rain boots?

you drank your own bathwater

and vomited on the carpet

and told someone else to clean it up,

but no one was there.

did you choke on the dirt rinsed from your skin,

or was it the flesh and blood you washed away

upset at being pulled back inside you?

or did you even notice the smell?

you washed yourself to appease them, maybe

but they put you in a glass case

and told you to sit still,

and you thought about the carpet in your hallway.

when the bus comes back,

it'll be full of every year of your life

and they'll all look in at you behind the glass,

while you wonder if you recognize them.

you sing a song but no one hears

so you shout and see how long you can hold a scream

but your breathe gives out, it always does,

and they're all leaving now.

the coatrack empties

and you wonder why you can hear the bus

pulling away

out on the street, from in here.

you wonder if you accidentally washed everything away

in your bath

and now there's nothing left;

except, you still have eyes.

can you see what they've done to you?

or did you even notice the smell?

the silence is always full of sound in here

so you run yourself another bath.

don't run after the bus tomorrow,

don't bother,

don't you remember the last time?

the sun will drip into your rain boots.

when you stop washing

maybe you'll notice

the glass walls

are breakable.

zorbing

with apparitions

downhill

little sprats

and krill

drawn to dance

water maggots

look so appealing

on liquid crystal ceilings

hooked

then killed

shedding tiny shiny skins

under the crude force

of melted toothbrush/razor shivs

all eyes on the fire movement

but

the interest didn’t compound

(so sad)

man down

bring out the baby violins

in this bubble

old words resound

memories echo

and lacerate

maybe should get a grip

maybe should put a pin in it

hellraiser head

future boy

KAPOW!

fall out naked

roll red

into a ridge

see if these old knees have any give

race back to the top

have another shot

this time

without the see-through scotch egg casing

or mask

or fear

or doubt

just the will to be in the moment

happy and loud

heaven’s own hospital patient

clawed out the crash

with an extra ink tear.

My mother cares so much about the self-image of our family. We all need to look picture perfect. the house is about as nice as an upper-middle-class house can get; we have a trampoline, a pool that all the neighborhood kids (who mom hates) swim in, a perfectly cut lawn, and enough live laugh love signs to build a second house. In the living room, we have a 50-gallon terrarium right above the fake fireplace. You can bet your bottom dollar that mom makes sure that the terrarium looks perfect, she has a Copperband Butterflyfish in there, I call him Toby, mom didn't care to name him. He must be lonely, tired of everyone staring at him, without a place to hide.

I don't have much time to think about Toby, mom put me into every sport possible, I think she just wants all the other moms to know that her kid is playing every sport the school offers. I don't really like sports, I would rather hang out with Toby. I asked my mom if we could get a dog, they're too dirty for us. fish are fancy, that's why it starts with an F. I think mom is wrong, but I am thankful that I can sit with Toby. I hope he doesn't feel like he needs to be anyone special around me. I hate the feeling of needing to act special around others, it is tiring. Nobody knows what my mom is like, I doubt that I do either.

She expects me to act like Toby. No offense to Toby, he's great, but she hates when I speak my mind. She hates when I use my brains that she pays four different tutors to perfect. She wants me to live within her picture-perfect terrarium. I don't like it here; in the terrarium, no one can hear you scream.

TW:

DW:

Subject: ATT:PUBLIC

RE: CHOKING HAZARDS

We have received your request form to file access to the Choking Hazards Collection at the Throat, Mouth, and More! Museum for the People. We are delighted that our curations have peeked your interest!

However, we regret to inform you that the collection is on loan to the Don’t Swallow That: Institute of London at this time. The artifacts will be on display for the entirety of their Tiny But Mighty exhibition. Which will run for the last weeks of the season.

With regards to access we are willing to allow full inspection upon the collections return. We apologize for the inconvenience and encourage you to attend our lecture this week on Toe Stubbing and the Furniture to Avoid. Included are two passes to the lecture hall and a print out of a mappable living space to go along.

Warmest regards,

The Cough It Up Society

TMandMM