I dreamt that my fingers were cut
I saved the middle with a bandaid and
Figured that the married one would grow back
The thumb and the pinky were fine
But somehow I lost most of my pointer
And I made the choice not to bring it with me

I couldn’t tell you how it really happened
But I had no plan to go to the hospital so
Maybe I did it myself
I have been feeding them with knives these days
The blood was warm and seemed to stay away
From all the white things in the white house
I woke up and the sun was hot
I checked for all my scars
Then I made the coffee like always