i push
myself, that extra inch and i feel
wounds open again and i
want them
to open, i want them to stay
open
heal only to tear
again, the question is,
do you really want to heal? that much
harder, i twist
and turn and
stretch and twist
again
and it shoots right through me,
angry, happy, electrified ants
here is your arm dear, look how pretty it is, here
is your arm
i do not want to heal right
away, i do not want to heal
the right way
a million little tears, like streaks
of blood down my arm
first few drops
before
rain