part 1: carmine
you want to see my heart?
go on then
haha
not what you expected?
here’s a secret: it never is.
oh, look at that— it’s still trying to beat
but the mice are already gnawing.
was that a grimace? how rude.
you get used to the smell of rot aer a while

part 2: ochre
i was stung by a hornet once.
when it’s humid enough, i can still feel it
a prickle
an itch
a blister
a bite
my veins are stained with yellow-black venom.
one drop kills the mice
but now i’m surrounded by bodies
and i can’t touch them without burning my hands.

part 3: charcoal
it’s a windowless, hourless time of night
say that again, a little deeper, a little smoother
when i can perfect my narrator voice (it’s a windowless)
and the mice make an excellent audience (hourless)
it’s time to go to bed (time of night)
say that again, but sigh it
it’s time to go to bed                                                                                                                                                 anger is practiced, pleasantly sharp (it’s a windowless)
sorrow is false, always held back (hourless)
it’s time to go to bed
fear is just shaky enough to tell that i’m afraid (time of night)
it’s time. to go. to bed.
it’s a windowless, hourless...

part 4: lead
trimmed my bangs with a seam ripper
couldn’t find the scissors
brush it nicely for sunday service.
don’t pray except late at night
soapy water running down my skin.
all i want are answers with no lacing.
truths i don’t have to lie for.
i sit with my back to the boy with the bible
so i can’t see his self-righteous smile.
the voidmice are singing
in the voices of devils and saints
they’re asking
why