I am a skeleton draped in your memories you're not even sure you wanted with fireflies floating inside my skull like a macabre paper lantern that is sitting in an attic somewhere collecting dust and spiderwebs and trains of thought. i am lost in this forest that you planted from old pop cans and headphones and there is no white rabbit to follow, only these melting clocks that are not telling me if i am late or not. i am porcelain temples with shellshock headaches that are rocking me to my tangled spinal cord that is mixing up my please-eat and do-not-cry signals so instead i am crying while trying to keep down my last meal of shards of glass and splinters of your broken promises that i swallowed whole-heartedly like a dog swallowing a chicken bone.