It was a knife sliced between bone
one I could feel but not reach;
It was stone crushed onto the second and third toes
of my one good foot; It was breath
sent into the atmosphere
and then not coming back;
It was only a game
like truth
or dare, meant to be funny, friendly,
impertinent:
tag the person you’re most scared to lose
it read. It was scatter shot
burnt through my abdomen;
who,
who am I still afraid to lose
now that I’ve lost
so
many.