nine-five-one
are you allowed to grieve a loss
when it was never really yours to begin with?
knowing you have something
on borrowed time doesn’t make it hurt any less.
the only possession i’ve ever had
was my name. she stole it in her mouth and swallowed
it inside her stomach so what else do i have left?
i suppose i have numbers:
addresses, phones, grades, rankings, weights, heights, ages.
do i let these figures define me?
what happens when a person loses
their name and love and all they can find upon internal search
are numbers and flaws and numbered flaws and flawed numbers?
i must turn my questions into commands if i am
to move forward. define human: a body composed of numbers.
define a lover: a number that will
steal everything back from you that they let you use until they were bored,
as humans usually become,
as we desperately try to trick ourselves into wholly rejecting intrinsic nature.
let us stop avoiding such irrationality, and accept what we have become.
define numbers: statistical anomalies with human-assigned names
trapped in bodies that refuse to release temporary love.