dissever ovenbird in_the_dark_i_was self_inflicted my mind an apple with a razor blade lodged in its core my gums, ribbons my mouth speaking with the scraps of a shredded tongue all this internal bleeding without a single bruise to prove my malady what sloshes in my stomach is blood not bile you send me to bed with a handful of antacids and tell me not to call you in the morning 260627 what's it to you? who go blather from