how can i tell you

what i have to if you can't hold a pair of scissors 
with two hands / if you can't reach the string to the bulb 
in the pantry

            how can i show you my palms
            
they are unwashed / they are still 
striped with marker & your eyes are looking too far

                  listen i remember everything
                  
you keep your crayons in the liquor cabinet so i have to ask 
& the foot pedal on the sewing table butts back & burns 
knees on carpet

            your face cracks beside dyed eggs 
            and summons its doppelganger in the mirror / white as the sink

you stuffed my palms with chocolate while the backs of your hands 
            flaked like onion skin and for gods sake

            i'd empty my basket of everything if i could