Have you ever exercised an injury intentionally or on purpose?
I took his mouth / in mine / what I call mouth / what I begged / take / what I said / consume /
my hands / crowbars / crowding / his system / an intruder / i begged / pry / and deemed mine /
and dead weight / and threadbare / and wild goose chase / and what a goner / I was
a primrose / a promise / an empty pot / waiting to boil over / wanting to burn / to bend / until i
break / to lie in wake / to lick the plates clean / to unseam / the curtain / through which / light
in patches / instead of places / where we used to / lie / everything / makeshift / in my mouth / a
high / dose of / what I’m missing / what I took and tried / dried as grime / in all my / softest
leaping towards consciousness / i shaped my hands / into shovels / and showed him / how I
emptied / my own pale / specifics / nitpicking / pockmarks / into my sickness / a
one-woman-show / an all-in-one performance / postulating what shapes / I can be / for one / who
what I mean to say / is / no / yes / from 1 to 5 / maybe / undoubtedly / I wanted him / to want /
my want / circling the drain / the porcelain face / that stares back / at me / in denial / all the clocks
/ drop their hands / until / until / until
Krysta Lee Frost is a mixed race Filipino American poet who halves her life between the Philippines and the United States. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Likhaan: The Journal of Contemporary Philippine Literature, The Margins, Berkeley Poetry Review, Hobart, Nashville Review, and elsewhere.