down in me

This is where I kept the little white mounds and in the morning we ate bread. This is where I kept that feeling of having never been so alone, right under the set of mugs with the pictures and the words on them. I don’t know, but this is where nothing much happens until it does and then nothing much happens until it does. The light is always off when you can’t see. This is where the smell has changed. This is where you kept me crawling backwards and forwards like a wind sail. I wanted kool-aid, I really did. This is where I kept dying. I think Britain wants me to be gooseliver pate, I don’t know what I want to be. Over here, this is where our meat kept changing color in the sun. This is where one day you were bright pink. Me I was blue, I have always been blue and this is not me trying to do a metaphor. No one has seen me for days but that doesn’t mean I stopped existing, it’s just the nature of my insubstantial form, it’s just an empty oven in a room, it’s where I am hiding out because what if they don’t come for me?