Rejection
Tastes like morning cigarette breath
And bile on your tongue

Stomach acid coating
Your teeth
Its time to crawl

You’re two years old again
Inching along the floor
Tears lubricating the wood under your skin

Howls and screams
No longer produce gentle arms
Just the suggestion of fear, brings no rescue

Indignant that this world would knock you down
Pissed off that no one comes running
Balled up fists beat the door jambs

As you lay
As you lay
As you just lay there
In that puddle of you
In that reduction of your soul
Your blood, your piss, your spit
Your tears, your vomit, your own sweat

A knock at your door
You can only whisper
“I am in here, this is where I am”

I’m afraid
I can’t come to the phone
Right now.