I have vilified myself in my own mind.

I try to think back, to retrace my circling steps, 

to pinpoint precisely the exact moment these

cranial lithospheres began to diverge and collide.

 

I scratch my head dazed

and, my scalp has begun to peel so

come, peer into the depths 

that are too far to reach unless flesh is torn.

 

I tear through these thoughts with the tips of my nails

til the flesh under my flesh began to show raw, 

down through the pericranium 

into the expanse of this pink mass

 

I gorge myself on the thoughts that escape 

torrentially through these tear ducts but 

the rate at which it flows is nearly negligible 

next to the rate at which they form.

 

I tire of this itinerant heart,  

it comes and goes-- when I don’t want to, 

it makes me feel-- when I do,

it keeps me numb. 

It constipates my thoughts and puts my mental through 

an intermittent and seemingly ceaseless series of

explosions and implosions. 

 

My mnd is mutilated and 

I took no notice 

until it was an unrecognizable mess.

 

Memories marred and tissue left scarred,

I gather what’s left with skinless fingertips that 

sting in this salty sea air.

 

I want to give my all to you

but I’m stuck conflicted over 

which pieces of me are good enough.

 

I just pray the leftovers of me leave a good taste on your palate.

A full plate is a delight and feast to the eyes, but sometimes

the scraped up scraps are the sweetest.