Castor oil poured hot down my skin
Like take this and it’ll teach you not to feel so bad again
Clicks on the nightstand are long fingernails in my dreams
Somewhere between alarm and panic from not letting go of things
A tiny hand once wrapped in mind still finds a way to reach me sleeping
I keep dreaming of its owner and disappoint myself for being creepy
A lot of things let go of you before you let go of them
And somewhere back in time I stopped chasing being thin