The wound is bleeding inwards It hooves and jives and sucks on our thumbs like pacifiers

Scrimmage the heart Scrimmage every child's tongue

I want to cut it out of me This ember stitched behind my ribs

Hey That lanky smile on your face

I am looking for a poet I am looking for a poet to tell my story

You will change Like how the moon forgets its name each morning

After my father died I tried to die too

You are a boy with no voice Yet you keep speaking upon us