::02:25:08::

::: Admitted Repetition, Part II :::

and I was “cage-free” after desperate injections I could never invent.

rib cage.
breast plate.
protruding with sharp pains
from butane hiding
the taste of habits
as usual.

why is this so normal?
each crying throat is quiet
after screaming 6 billion times
in 6 billion moments.
our perpetual zero will keep
us running to the bottles
and the bags that would only
shut me up with
mutiny in my stomach;

better than my tense jaw.
my forever headache.
I can flush it down. unlike
my head. so big it won’t even
fit.
in the oven.

Written by: ~ mallory