rugburn
by Marnie Cozzens
because it’s just,
i can’t ever turn my mind off
because it’s on a constant live stream projecting onto nothing
because everything is a fragment
because everything jumps from one thing to another
before finishing
because they call this a “mixed state”
because it starts with something like realizing
i’ve never had sex on carpet before
and wondering if i’d get rug burn and
why they call it a burn
because is it an actual burn and to what degree?
because who came up with carpet muncher
or munchies?
because i spend so much time sitting on the carpet, half naked,
munching on bacon and brussel sprouts and wondering
why kids don’t like their vegetables
because when you put caramelized fat on anything
it becomes edible
because when you say i love you
i can swallow any negative feeling i’ve ever felt
except for the fact that i still hate
because i can’t stop thinking about how beautiful rap songs can be
but when you say them one line at a time
they sound broken and that’s how i feel
like those times i get parking tickets
because i forgot what days street cleaning are
or when i fall asleep on my heating pad and
it sears patterned waves into my back
because this isn’t mania
because if drake can create beautiful one liners, why can’t i?
because “the square root of 69 is 8 something?”
because i spent most of my math classes figuring out why
word problems never made any sense to me
because numbers held no emotion and words made me feel
because before pre-algebra her brother slid his hand down my
hello kitty underwear and
because after geometry i learned what i was like to be bent
at an acute angle
by three boys
at a time
because everyone told me to keep quiet
because i promise this wasn’t mania
because when i told you my story you delicately helped me flip the pages
because in january you read Bluets
and quoted prose to me all winter
because blue is the warmest color
because we laid in bed like belugas
under white sheets
because i could tell you were mad when i stained your pillowcases
with cough drop colored drool and
because i know you didn’t know what anxiety actually looked like
until my sweat pooled on top of your comforter
because our shared comfort is
baby food and frozen juice boxes
because you don’t make fun of me for still feeling like a child
because this isn’t mania
because most of the time i’m still alone on my carpet
because i’m debating if i can give myself rug burn
because who knows
when i’ll be on carpet with you
because carpet isn’t clean
like numbers, like you are towards me,
because I want you to crash and burn into feeling something
uncontrollable towards me
because sometimes i like uncontrollable
because this isn’t mania
because nowadays survival rates in burn victims are higher than half
because even though i know those aren’t perfect odds,
i’ve always been a survivor
because you don’t have to say it,
but i know you love me better when i’m strong
because that one time when i got picked up in an ambulance, i saw your face
because that other time i got out of surgery
and i could feel you pushing me away, but
because that one time i shit my pants at the ferry building
you took a nap with me afterwards
because you took a photo of me naked,
a photo of me vulnerable
because i asked you if I could afterwards,
and you laughed in my face
because i like your laugh and
because i’ve never laughed so hard with anyone else
because you make the weird spill out in me and
because you tell me that it’s lovely
when i’m not sad
or mad
or in an uncontrollable state
because even though it’s not mania,
you don’t have time for anything else
because you still don’t have time
because you can’t do serious
because i gave myself a rug burn
because burns are too serious and
because you said you didn’t really like the concept of rugs
because now,
you.
because this is not mania
because
because i promise you,
this is not mania.
