trespasser's lullaby

i crawl into the darkness of your body and find a place somewhere in the gaps. right in the cage, right in the crow’s nest, wedged between your lungs and beating heart. i’m covered in your blood. it’s dripping down my face; it makes me sick. i could touch your insides with my fingers, i could push your ribs until they crack, but i am small, so i just feel your steady rhythm because your heart is larger than i am. you’ll take an x-ray. white clean walls, white clean coats. your doctors have not been prepared; they found a foreign body in your body. you’ll laugh and say, oh no, that’s just my friend. they’ll extract me and make me tend to you in your remission. i’ll spoon feed you ideas, and maybe that’ll go somewhere, but maybe not, cause that’s just how it always is. and there’s no point in fighting it, not anymore, at least. and when they rip me out, you won’t feel the change. save for the gap in your ribs that i grew in, save for the bite i took out of your heart. i’m sorry; i was hungry, your inside is too dark, let me put some light in you, let me be the light in you.