Phobia 2

[whyelliswhy]

When I hold your hand, 
I sometimes, most times, 
imagine your fingers
in another girl’s mouth. 

My body is a shell. 

I, most times, 
imagine your hand gripping 
the breast of another; 
it looks like it’s about to burst. 
I imagine your hand bloody. 

My body is a broken shell. 

I imagine us dancing, the girl and I, 
side by side, made of the same parts. 
Can you tell us apart?

I remember your hand in my mouth--
It was too big and I looked ridiculous. 
It doesn’t matter;
you would remember me as her. 

My body is a drifting shell.