Broken Jewelry 

Two skulls flew off from my wrist, bouncing on the tile next to my feet.
The urine drained from my body as I sat and wondered about how
I could go about polishing the little snake vertebrae.
When I was good and empty, I stood up to the mirror.
There in front of me was a collection of thoughts, a museum of nerves.
My arms were finely marked with two-day-old sister cuts.
Outside the door there were people doing things with their hands; laughing over their glasses, smiling about false memories.
In front of me was flesh propped up on two legs- too thick, too sad and too ugly for the people outside to see.
I stuck my fingers down to meet the place between my legs and I painted a smile on my face with my red ink.
I became a smiling woman of 24 with bright cherry lipstick, which I called “Raging Bitch.”
I placed the skulls into my pocket, I wiped the blood from my face, I left the place thinking of resin and teeth.

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