Jaden Rose


Between 12:00 midnight and 1 am,
I fantasize being grated,
arm skin peeling like cheese down to the bone,
isn’t that funny?
we laugh together, me and cloudy reflections,
hidden behind a nightmare-blacked mirror
dark and so unclear I feel a shiver,
The metal of the grater scrapes my spine now,
vertebrae clinking like wind chime,
snatching or failing to
Flesh tears from broken rotted body,
my being dappled // corrupted by days of silence
unending days of negligence,
I am pieces of
torn ribbon at my feet.

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PoetryJeremy Bibaud