Dear Ana

the poison of your words has done nothing but strengthen

my stomach, the muscles taut beneath the skin.

the powder on my tongue from the pills

w o r t h the retching and trembling bones,

the beads of sweat rolling off my skin

drowning me in liquid sorrow.

is it your voice deep inside me, grinding its teeth under

the sharp wings beneath my neck that stand as beacons of hope?

waving to me in the mirror, n o t missing a beat

telling me in whispers

that you have pointed me toward my destiny?

but, c o l l a r b o n e s, you mislead me.