Martha Dust, Juice, Bones & Hair
The doctor put his hands around my neck
I've never been so close to choking on myself
He said “you need a rest”
Like I need religion
My grandmother prays for me
Saint Bede went missing
I skipped P.E. for a year
I'm mostly bones, I'm mostly liquid, I'm mostly air
You bruise as easily as I do
I never saw myself undressed in front of you, but here we are
Running through the symptoms
Of my allergies and open wounds
Stolen magazines from waiting rooms
