Bite me.

In the middle of the night
more like the middle of the day
more like when school lets out.
Fingers turn into octopus tentacles
Lips turn into options
and tongues turn into crusaders
Fireflies don't happen
and pain
never really felt that good.
I said,
"I like it when you bite me."
he said
"I can tell."
It was like time wasn't there
and neither was I
Even though my head
never stopped moving
never stopped thinking
my head was always moving
up and down
and through
What should I do?
I said,
"I like it when you bite me."
he said
Nothing at all.
I was never really listening to him anyway.
I was staring up
up and down
at my feet
at the stairs
anywhere but his face
I never looked him in the face
I didn't want to know that a person's fingers
could suck the life out of people.
Just octopus tentacles.
Just things that didn't exist.

I sat down to write this poem and my nose started bleeding.
Maybe it was the force of me coming back to my body after all this was over.
It's just.....seven hours ago
I was something different.