1.
For six years I lived in supermarket doorways
and threw up dry soil. I could have died
I should have
not lied. I have not been to logic class
for three weeks, our task is to determine
consistency. Pen lids can not stop ink
unwinding downstairs, expanding
into last year
where a father opens his fingers
and touches cake wrappers.
He tied a dog chain around his child's neck
for all the stories she told and dirty plates she left
by the cream sofa, then he said goodnight to his wife
with chemical lips
thirty eight minutes later.
2.
This is the room where trees die
and mathematics are always wrong. I make jokes
about the zeros on the wall and try to add them up
before they slip through the gaps in my throat.
I cannot stop them. When I was five
my best friend had legs like breadsticks, she went shopping
with her mother every weekend while mine pushed hoovers
and prescription drugs
into her palms.
I love her through time machines
3.
My cousin ate yoghurt in a caravan
and always washed the dishes. This was the summer England
stopped being beautiful. She liked to hug
everyone and save pennies in a red purse and let them rot
like stars. I did not.
I lied on a sick bed with my child-proof body
and watched while she took my clothes, my sour milk
and my car seat twenty nine seconds
before I was gone.
4.
Dear Dr Sellars,
Last year my chest failed
it’s MOT, I have not been out
since, my brakes never work
and the horn never beeps. I have been thinking
about my childhood. I think it left sticks
in my hipbones and I cannot pull them out
alone. The engine makes a sound that makes me
want to stop walking. There is no petrol in my tank
and empty coke cans roll around in the trunk,
my left wing mirror unattached
when I fell into the microscope --
you see, I only wanted to measure my thoughts
with something more than words and numbers.
Do you think you can help me?
Yours sincerely,
a girl with a heart
ready to wake up.