may // topiramate

when i forget god is beneath my fingernails,

when the sun sits in my ribcage & yawns,

i do not kiss Her. my room smells like dust,

curtains drawn where my eyelids once were

& the carpet turned to ash. i am bound to

this skin, worn like my mother’s scrubs, &

i am burning. there is something like faith

leaking from my mouth; later, i will regret it.