Human

At night I toss and turn along the curvature of my slender spine. A gentle touch from the sky lets me know I’m going to be up all night. And if I dream it’s only because I haven’t got the time. I haven’t got the time.

I haven’t got the time for thinking and for caring so I’ll let my neurons burn like Chinese fireworks. I’ll hold my hammer with a grin before I dip it in my skull. And maybe you should think that you could think instead of dream. And maybe sometimes you should think.

Oh God, oh God, can you tell me your name? I’m sorry but my mommy says I’m not allowed to talk to strangers. You probably wonder why I even bother wondering. I can only laugh and say there’s no hope for humankind.

It kills me that my hatred turns me into a killer. I could not save me from me if I wanted to. But you hold on for hope and love for me. And I can’t leave so long as you’ve got your leash around my love for you. Pull as hard as I want but it’s sewed in like the teeth I tried to spit out.

My teeth were never meant for eating. They only helped me find my voice. Just like kites were never meant to fly. They were meant to be held down by a child. When I find that I can’t speak for fighting, I eat the teeth I so despise. Their bony fragments travel inside me. I cough blood just to make a sound.