NO ONE ASKED FOR ME, BUT HERE I AM
Lonely needs a new name, some word
that terrifies, like a fire—I want to scream
HELP! I’M LONELY! so a crowd piles my bones
on a stretcher & carries me past all the body traffic together.
I crave vulnerability so ribbed it’s disgusting,
like a dead deer on the road, dirt-freckled & bloody.
I desire my funeral because I’ve always wanted
a procession of strangers to touch me. See, I can be
both pretty & wanting—wearing my lipstick,
heels on, posing for you, my arches cracking—
not on purpose. I was just born like this & grew tired
of changing, the way a sunflower exhausts itself
vaulting towards light & eventually decides to wilt.
Ask if I’m alone; my answer echoes. It always will.