i rawdogged the garden today.
bare hands
not a tool in sight except for hope and some kitchen scissors
the very same tools i had when i was sixteen.
and i thought of you
but don't take it as a compliment
it was the same frustration i had towards the weeds
my hands now temporarily muddied and raw
even after trying to desperately clean them.
sometimes i look down and there's still dirt beneath my fingernails and a carcass that looks the same shape as me.
i hope the bugs don't crawl into my skin, it's itchy.














