ANYONE’S NOTHING ❋ Bridget Boylan

in a dream the margins bleed a dog-eared page a rose petal turned up hue unclear
a piece of ice frozen rain flies through the rear window hits me straight in the eye

I am unsure of origin I am distrusting
what used to be instinct       i never knew instinct

but now I know home              now I “have” “space”
in which I feel real                    in which my dreams are not entirely illegitimate

vision can be sparse pleasure and pain
spending time bothering to define them
in the way I have grown accustom to

fifty lashes hit me harder make me really bleed
this all shuts me the fuck up I want to know love
I think I really can