thirsty fingers

i figure my body is a pyramid of vowels
searching for a voice
or a pen
or a tablet
or a microphone
or a stage
or a man
to project it's pain onto

i climb atop the laps of men
press my lips against thick skin
trying to capture resilience on the cusps of their lips
i want to be hardened
but i am just soft
putty melting onto concrete
burning beneath sun

i want to write tragedies onto his tongue
stuff my internal conflicts down his throat
rid myself of myself
just remember me when i am gone
that is all i demand

tuck my ashes in between the pages of my dairies
burn them in a pit
send him the remains

i don't want to be forgotten

all i have is syllables
and words
and feelings
and notebooks
and incomplete thoughts
and a bloody heart
and tired fingers
and a thirsty soul

can i curl up and live inside of you forever?
that is the only place i've ever felt safe

if you'd like to find me you can look in the cracks of his skin
on his bottom lip
buried beneath silent thoughts and saliva
wedged in between his brain and skull
leaking out of his nose
bloody