frankenstein

my heart is not my brain's heart;

these limbs are not coated in my lover's skin.

i hold hands with myself

as if i can trick the other into becoming my own but

you cannot trick the hurting into self love

when there is not a self to come home to.

i pray that the stitches will separate

but my veins form more needles at night.

i try to yell at them but

my tongue is a false prophet and

with my alien eyes

i cannot see their blue.