My thoughts are cancerous

Mutations of lies

And ideas that refuse to stop dupilacting

Duplicating

And no amount of chemicals

Can ever poison away the words

That bloom like tumours

Somewhere between the front 

And the back of my skull

Somewhere between yesterday

And tomorrow

Sometimes I go digging down to the roots

But to unearth the damage

is like weeding a meadow of dandelions

Down to soil

Because the first friend I confided in

On the matter of you

Told me that you were lucky

For getting skinny

And every nerve in my body has tightened

Around that exchange

So my cancerous thoughts

Have no choice but to continue to

Rupture me

And taint my mind with the terror

That we live in a world

That is infatuated with your skeleton

And that beatified your self-slavery

Like it planned to send it flowers

And offer a card of congratulations

To the barbs

That made you

Beautiful