NO ONE ASKED FOR ME, BUT HERE I AM

Lonely needs a new name, some word

that terrifies, like a fire—I want to scream

HELP! I’M LONELY! so a crowd piles my bones

on a stretcher & carries me past all the body traffic together.

I crave vulnerability so ribbed it’s disgusting,

like a dead deer on the road, dirt-freckled & bloody.

I desire my funeral because I’ve always wanted

a procession of strangers to touch me. See, I can be

both pretty & wanting—wearing my lipstick,

heels on, posing for you, my arches cracking—

not on purpose. I was just born like this & grew tired

of changing, the way a sunflower exhausts itself

vaulting towards light & eventually decides to wilt.

Ask if I’m alone; my answer echoes. It always will.