He takes his life
pulls and stretches it to the edges of what it will stand,
the underside glistens
he flipps it, chucks it, picks it up, hurling it again and again, jumps on it,
sucking it into his mouth he chews it, it bubbles and thickens
a wet squeaking as it tears and drops to pieces, on the floor.
he gathers it back together, fucks it till it splits and flings it into corners of the room.
he has thrown it through windows, it has shattered multiple panes of glass and mirrors
cutting to draw a slow blood,
a blood absent of heroin, drenched with nicotine and hatred
taught carefully then,
beat relentlessly into him,
by his father.