lightless

&&they came to me
[not understanding what they couldn't see
or touch
or smell
or abuse]

&&they said to me
where did all the light go
from your eyes?
from your poetry?

&&they laughed with me
when I told them that the stars
burned out.
meteors crashed into my backyard.

&&I gave them butterscotch and sent them on their way
but that night I took out my pen
and wrote and wrote until I fell asleep and then

I became the words.
I fell into the page and my dry tongue ran over words
like water.
I coughed up acid and threw up the psychedelic gummy bears
[it was all I'd had for lunch].

When I woke my eyes were bloodshot and my wrists ached
my hair stuck to my face and the morning light burned my eyes.
&&I looked at the page in front of me
&&it was blank.