Maybe there is a version of my body
that does not belong to anyone but me.

Maybe it is lodged inside my throat somewhere,
and I will cough it up someday.

Maybe it is buried somewhere.

Maybe it is this body, now.
Because I am drunk and tired and disappointing,
and no one would ever want to claim me
as their own.

Not this way.
Not this body.
Not at this second.

Maybe I only own my body
when there is no one else around
and no one else could possibly want to take it.

Maybe I am alone right now.

Alone.

And I can fall asleep safe,
wake up alone
in the morning.