monksta

i wake up to a broken arm,
and i push off the bone
to raise my eyelids open
to an empty room.

you could have seen the look in my face
through a tiny window,
the sweat dripping off my head,
the mattress looking destroyed
just because i closed my eyes
for a few hours.

she was like this whirlwind,
taking away my liver and my kidneys,
and running off into the night
with scalpel in hand, a wicked laugh,
her phone number changed.

I have a sling now, trapping words
when I spill them from my mouth sometimes,
saving them for when I can finally
move this broken arm back into position,
and forget that face.