the red moon has risen
in the crescents of my fingernails,
where i've chewed them off
like there's something to escape from;

and when i sleep (if i sleep at all)

i do so fitfully, wistfully,
my chest cavity hollow and my arms empty
except for the echo of (s)kin
i've never known.

xxx

i am desperately missing something
i never had in the first place.