Stef Is Writing

You can’t take a bath

In the morning

Says a fuckwit.

I exhale

Swell up from the water, dripping silver

Feel the red scabs

Beneath my hair

Like strawberries

In a muddied patch

To live and walk in steam

My eyesnosemouth smear

Oil in heat

And do nothing

Really nothing

To change my living breathing being

to change the directional pull

bones pulling me downwards

Seeking softness

Or the most down

Of anything ever

Drag me to the

Hot Core

I will find the comfort

There.