i pried my eyes out with butter knives in my (k)nightmare last night a hole in my throat we breathe
the same air the same nitrogen the same carbonoxygen chlorophylllll blue, seafoam green, eating rocks in the midnight
lake, we dream dream and oar through the river white blood cells, low low, drow(n)ing in CT contrast it tastes like blue but the kind that is red (blue)
i remember the cheerleader costume (uniform) my mother w(h)ore red pleats red vampire bites in her neck thigh, cellulose torn from bone
i eat my teeth with my tongue and my lungs seize hard, long tight, i lost my rib bones in college, i lost them in the house, i lived in once
that abandoned dorm building h aunted , red red Red. eat molars red, eat lung lining red until k(n)ightmare is red red red
and we kiss, but we don’t touch. it is, it is. it is? a kiss, but only sometimes, but only in(side). i remember the EKG song loud red
river white, foaming at the mouth, and the stab wounds of youth (water gun to the eye) and pry it out red
Theo Bee (he/they) is a trans, queer, and disabled writer and artist from Nebraska living in New Jersey. His work can be seen in Another Chicago Magazine, The Bitchin' Kitsch, and Stone of Madness Press. You can find them on Twitter and Instagram @theobeecreates.
