Frances Elizabeth Thrush

lets fall in love with tantrums

with all those things

that will kill us

 

lets stick our hands

on stove-tops

and dance on space heaters

 

lets double-fist 

scalding hot coffee and alcohol

lets forget who we are

when no one is watching

 

lets not exist

without validation.

without pressure.

 

lets stop breathing

hold our lungs prisoners

and our hands as criminals

 

lets cut off our limbs

so as not to be accountable

for ourselves

 

lets run around naked

and yell that we're

free.

 

lets fall even faster