Worn Out

They put me into a cage,
Where I pulled the stems of feathers out of my back
And the green in my tongue glowed like a worm.

They wore me out,
The work kneeding my shoulders and bloodying me,
I rot in their jaws.

I peel the scolds and scrape the bruises off my teeth,
I warm my thumbs under my breath,
They wore me out, the curious stares and shaming my bones,

Trying to cleanse them with a matte kiss,
But I was dirtier still,
And carried my dry-bone heart and crumpled head back to size 8.


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