tani

do you know how sometimes

they ship things

that might grow

in ice

wrap them good and tight

in layers of water and cold

and then scratchy fabric

stretched around the base

like saran wrap that bulges over the edges of the cup

to keep everything inside

and somewhere along the line

someone took cold cold hands

and shoved them through my ribcage

carelessly as if 

these careful bones that keep me safe

were knotted roots in stubborn ground

grabbing my thrashing heart

like picking up something

slightly unpalatable but meaningless

that you dont even have to think about

because it's not quit that important

and shoved it in a tank

of water that twisted and hardened

itself around what was left of me

while all the things i recognize

in the mirror or the windows

drifts away from me 

weakly flopping on the ground

and i think bla bla bla

and am confused

but then cloudy

and more so

as the water sharpens around me

tying me down in quick little filaments

bitter and brittle and strong

and i am numb remembereing my own contours

only vaguely like a street sign

you used to pass on your way to school

but never really read

because it was foreign

and not the way home

and then they pulled me out 

from the dark and the dank and rarified air

and threw me into soil

like a package 

that the owner hasnt yet claimed

and so may be treated as they like