Broken Bone Marrow

Spiraling little sparrow
Broken spare wing.
Choking on bone marrow.
Going home tomorrow.

Talking to yourself again…
In the bathroom with the
toothpaste stains.

Looking through my phone,
at old numbers that I’ve called.
And don’t remember calling.

Listening to Damien Jurado
over and over,
singing about leaving
Colorado.

I’m thinking of quitting,
but I know I can’t.
I’m thinking of you,
but I know I shouldn’t.

Put the pin in the map,
stick the needle in my arm,
watch my blood fill up
the vile. Vile little blood
droplets. I know these
claws and these jaws,
and it’s the only bite
I like.

Singing about leaving,
while stuck in this place,
it makes sense then that my
bark is worse than my bite,
if I have teeth at all.

“You’re at it again,” She says…
“Is it you?” I ask.

Chirp. Chirp. Chirp.

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