i've been beyond unmotivated to do anything school-related lately. ****.

throwing mothballs in my mother's closet
to stifle the reeking stench of skeletons
finding femurs in shoeboxes
cedar air fresheners on hangers
all these strangers watch as rodents
scamper up from between the floorboards
chew bones in the hampers
they all ask different questions
but expect the same answers

i closed the door on those corpses
chose not to address the ones behind me
with wary watchful eyes, dead eyes

instead i screech a chair
to the dining table
where all my cadavers rest upright
where my lover looks at me
gaunt and haggard, only slightly out of place

reaching for the saltshaker
she breaches the topic
the whale in the room
i answer
well, you see,
i couldn't think of any reasons
to hide them anymore
and i really hope
that's okay with you.
the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones that never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn