[ID: a poem titled, "Dermatillomania". it reads, "(I pray;) / How pathetic we fall. / Family values always Born to Die, / So Below: above All. / — the midsummer's high Sun / Burrows into You like a ruthless / Mango, young — as You — / Pour a swig of HYDROGEN peroxide / Down your Ear canal for once — / For the third time — unwavered — so it can kill in a Storm — / Of easter Egg / Scented seafoam suds now — fluff and creme and — / It feeds on the Blood hungry, at the cavernous dead end, the cave of flesh, and ugly. / Those jagged rust flakes that cough up itch as they freeze-thaw suddenly / dissipate into a cool breeze with a sigh of mist from my chest. / One day, smelling of HYDROGEN and Oil, I sit at the picnic table opposite of my divine guest; / A Sparrow, brown and tan — one feather upright between His shoulders from a tussle somewhere / else. And He speaks words I dare not repeat. / Only once He's finished does it dawn in my mind as a question — / For me. My stomach jolts — like a missed step. my eyes dodge like a shadow I thought was someone else. / — then I respond, carefully as you must: / 'My greatest artistic flaw — which deeply cracks within me — is such that I'll never be honest, / because I can never be honest. The more words I say, the more I'm Nothing at all.' / How clever my Lyrics — / Oh how pathetic I fall. / I can't kill myself yet — / So below, above all. / And as my naked Chest runs slick as slip, / A Bird bleeds into Our Sun." End ID]
