I wash my hands of this insomnia
and leap no more into caffeine's bright arms.

I do so hope that you are safe from harm,
though I myself once nailed your coffin shut.
These singing whispers populate my dreams.

I wonder if you miss me, though it seems
your legs have swelled with muscle to extend
beyond the barren borders I construct.
So be it -- you'll forget me if you must

and leave no footprints in the violet dust
of crushed and powdered capsules. Go to sleep,
drift off in perfect slumber. Have no fear:
I tuck myself in bed and close my eyes.
My fingers will not pry between your sheets

to tap the boyish warmth, the savage heat.
No evil wraith am I, I promise you,
with collarbones protruding through my shirt.
I will not rise to stir the graveyard dirt
and dance my bony dance. I'm human now,
a normal human girl all full of sun.

They say the healing process has begun.
They try to comfort me but never see
the shadowed scar, the silver thimble kiss
that shimmers on my hip. I never healed,
I'm healing still.  This is the price of night.