learning

today i learned if i open my mouth wide enough you'll fall inside 
yesterday i learned they can say the word bitch on satellite television
next week i remember how to stay quiet
remember how to fit inside the space between your fingernail and skin

today i know one of two things:
there is a moldy avocado in my fridge
god isn’t real

in an hour i will subconsciously forgive everyone for the 34th time this week
in 2 hours i will forget the way our pupils melded into one another
forgetting blood rushing to skin and warmth in my ear

today you cannot see me
the indignation has worked its way up from my ankles to my widows peak
and covered me up in its reprieve 

tomorrow the doctor will tell me there are a bunch of bugs in my brain
and they get in there through my ears and nostrils