tear your throat out leave
you reamed in two
a rearing in the air like lightning,
stench of the burn
writhing in my sinuses like a creature
off leash. unsupervised, stored in a cage.
a hunched figure groomed for the service.
second sense hurting, pressing in on bloated skin and begging
for an opening
so-called organs waiting to fail
the dead mass i seek to revile,
a cesarean to continue the cycle.
curled up like a dog, cutting off circulation
to my legs
a wretch, a homunculus
lifeless until you pull the string.
sightless until proven otherwise.
Milena Bee is a poet, mythologist, and hermit based in Los Angeles. They're fond of extra-strong coffee, propagating cacti, and their weighted blanket. They're the co-editor of All Guts No Glory, a zine-style small press. Find them online at @mildrangus.