the hair on my head always feels so heavy and soiled, no matter how short i cut it or how hard i scrub it in the shower. even when i'm wet it seems, i can never quite get clean, so i peel scabs off of my skin, scrape the dirt from under my nails earnestly and compulsively as if one day i might wake up

smooth, pale, hairless, light for once instead of cold and stuck to the sheets. if i could, i’d strip myself of skin, hair, and nails altogether, and what would I be then? warm and sterile and ripe and pristine like sliced tomatoes,

the silver knife, the seeds,

the juice sticky, so messy

yet so neat.