Love it. Some of it sounds familiar. It's similar to some of your other work as far as the phrasing goes, but who cares? That last line is beautiful too.
I haven't heard the term 'crossfaded' in years. Ah, nostalgia! So, the brown paper bag... booze or huffing? Considering the rest of the poem, it definitely seems like... huffing. Just curious about the intention.
Lightning and ribs... both featured heavily in one of my recent poems too. Strange that they seem to go so well together.
Anyway, I think this is one of the best in the contest so far. Love the first stanza... the whole narrative is really solid... the imagery is off-kilter awesome. The "i know i can trust them to do their best at chipping away" is a bit verbose, but that's the only criticism I have. Tighten the last lines after the contest and it will just be gold, man.
I thought maybe you had something else in mind, actually. That's just... how it read to me. Clearly, the emotion can across just fine because that's what I got out of it too.
I definitely have those moments where if anyone speaks to me, looks at me, or touches me, I feel like ripping their face off. It just... happens sometimes.
Teddy bear gore is superior to all other forms. Yeah, man... chew that bear's face right off. Love it! Honestly, pretty amazing description of those 'everything is technically fine, but I'm agitated so fuck off" moments.
Hard and sterile as solid slate
or ethereal and smooth as water
breathing inside a pitcher, I've
been locked behind closed doors,
picking at my scabs, oozing
from the inside out onto scraps
of paper, crumpled napkins.
In my best clothes, I'm spatially
unaware. Where do I end and
begin? My best case scenario
is bleeding into the wallpaper,
a quiet camouflage that doesn't
appease, doesn't offend, but
instead exists just enough.
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That last line is beautiful too.
It just... happens sometimes. 