American Dream by Mela Blust

i can’t hold you
with this
american dream
the knuckles are scraped
the thighs are bruised and
i’m afraid of everything
that moves
i can’t look into a mirror anymore
without repeating
what it already knows
it doesn’t want me/
i am not home in this skin
if I break it
will there be seven years of bad luck?
add it to my tab
i can’t hold you up
in this
american dream
the weight of you
will be the death
of me