All For You
I have returned home from the party
Smoke is clinging to my hair and the taste of marijuana mingles sourly with my toothpaste
I have to squint when the phone buzzes, to see past the flood of fluorescence and into the sting of
“Are you awake? I need you”
I am spread limply atop purple bedsheets,
Sometime in the night, a mosquito surfed the humid air that whistles through the crack in my bug screen
When I hear it pass I do not swat at it
Partly for fear of waking my father, partly for exhaustion, and partly for the knowing that it may bite, but it was born this way.
It needs me.
Later I can feel blood draining from my knee.
Smoke is clinging to my hair, I am spread limply atop purple bedsheets,
Once again, killing myself
For the breath of something else
