by La Quinta Blackketter
They say they’re loud thoughts.
and they’ll quiet once I surrender
to the all knowing pill.
knowing my mind, patching the holes,
cradling me at night.
I don’t know where they come from.
They accompany me in the shower
tying my chest like a tourniquet,
filling me up with white noise
and ancestral blood.
All the consequences will have their day now.
All the places I didn’t go, coming to deepen
my finger prints.
Dear doctor, you are the intrusive thought.
Your subjects touching my scars,
laying me down, cleaning me day by day.
Like a favorite guitar, tuning me.
Pickin’ at me with those pills.
I still sing in the shower.
I just don’t make up the words anymore.
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