Why am I bleeding?

Does this wound hurt?

As my fever leeches from body to dirt

How am I breathing with wildflowered lungs?

Why did you leave me?

Was it my wild tongue?

What were you holding?

Why did it shine?

Did I glow like the moon when impaled by the pines?

You think that you’ve killed me

But watch my chest rise

How am I still breathing if I’ve already died?