the rainbow turns red in my arms / color after color darkened by your blood / & the weight of all i know / even when i pretend not to know / we haven’t spoken in months & / i do not know how to speak up / it seems too early / to realize / sleep loses all consciousness / sounds too much like / justifying myself / i didn’t mean to sleep with her / i wanted to die every second / & i start crying because / how can the guilt not be mine / a fault tattooed / to my upper lip / across my brow / every place she touched / & i recoiled / & i expanded / & i trapped myself / into acceptance / might as well pretend to be okay / while my stomach runs away / into safety’s arms / but safety is a gun / loaded & aimed / at my throat / at my hands / my knuckles tremble against her skin / & i convince myself / this is what you want / & i convince myself / it’ll be over in the morning / but when morning comes / the bathroom sink isn’t big enough to bleed into / & there are too many mattresses / i can’t escape to / & when i tell them what happened / it rings like admission of guilt / rather than a call / for someone to bail me out / of the prison of my brain / there are bodies strewn across the room / everyone is sleeping / but us / but you / & i am sleeping too / my consciousness has locked the door behind it / left me shaking / on the toilet / in the dark / if i turn on the lights / i might have to see myself / & the rainbow / turned red