Ottone Wy.

Soul excavation stop #2: kingdom of dust
{free-writes in places where I’ve made memories that I regret//attempts to come to peace with those memories}

My skin remembers
more than I ever will
remembering to itch
to crawl off of my bones
as I pull onto Stone Canyon Dr.

Forgive my handwriting
but my hands no longer wish
to be a part of this body

The house is taped together
leaning to the side
a kingdom of dust
and mildew spoons
kingdom of backhanded saliva
and blood mixing into
pasta sauce

Me: a dumping ground
for cracked knuckles
me: a convulsing corpse
in boots that I always removed
with my heart in my throat

Me: a windup doll
too aware of her own
wooden skin

You: serpent gatekeeper
of sugar skulls
of dust
of dust
of dust mixed into your cereal
of dust between my legs
of dust on the bathroom mirror
of dust in the palm of your pipe
growing furious under a match

A kingdom of dust
and mildew spoons
that I willfully entered
saying, “take me to the dungeon”
saying, “maybe I’ll find some quiet there.”

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