Toxic
L.A.
2 a.m.
swallow
then reject
bedlam in a plastic bottle
oil paint poured over ice
my cell phone lights up
a warning about the smog
two words
don’t breathe
add another layer
fingerprints on artillery
the worm between my lips
is an actor
the sharp kind
problem is
he’s getting too big
feels like if this
kitchen floor weren’t here
I’d be in the ocean
neon hands around my ankles
I really used to believe
that changing anything
was impossible
I spent forever
feeling powerless
now I know better
I’m an alchemist