Once I can pull back
The guillotine of teeth,
Severing my tongue
From what leads it,
And soothe the callouses
On the roof of my mouth,
The wear and tear of
The rotting bars,
I’ll allow the acid of my
Words to dissolve the
Hinges where my lips
Meet, and the boils in
My gums to burst on
Each sentence.
I’ll let the bile bubble
And rage wretches
Eclose into some
Insipid drooling song
Of broken glass and
Misplaced pins, puncturing
The soles of well-intended
Steps.
I’ll free the rivulets of
Rancid overthinking,
Feel them run down my
Chin, ripping the skin
Down too like some
Unveiling sheet,
Holding on with spiked
Fish hooks to the grudge
Of my contorted face.
The pin prick and the dam break,
The magma cracks in the crust,
The burst of the butterfly.
I want to go mad,
More than anything.