Cell

I’m trapped by your lock and key

That you’ve hidden within me

Somewhere where my hands can’t reach

In a cavity my nails can’t carve out

Sitting there, existing

Beating, with your pulse

That traps me

More than metal, more than iron

It breathes as you breathe

It beats as you beat;

You’re locked with it

Locked with me

Distanced by the flesh and blood and bone

That I can’t remove

That you can’t escape

Because your trap for me

Is my trap for you

So now we exist

Solitarily jailed

Together.

Don't Breathe.

I've got you here
in my lungs
compressed and rebelling
the repression of my ribs
of my bones
and the things that know
what you're doing here
but can't let it out
can't let you out -
to swallow me whole
to keep me in your lungs
the prisoner to you that I'm already becoming
the words and the thoughts that are already shoving -
now in my eyes
who have learned how to see you differently
jailed by my skull
by my bones
while you have learned
to consume me like I consumed you.
heavy and whole
fogging up our insides
and waiting
praying
for both of us to breathe

On 9/11

I'm trying not to think about today. On a day all will remember, some part of me just wants to forget.

Its always been apparent to me that everyone who was old enough when the attacks happened to remember them, today remembers exactly what they were doing when they heard the news. At 9, I was old enough to be cognizant of what was happening - to understand it on a certain level. Only, this understanding was on the same level as the Bogey Man or Bigfoot; it was a fear based on the anticipation of what could happen, rather than what did, and always blanketed with the promise that my parents would be there to protect me.

But now, after ten years, things are so very different. Instead of a witness to the world, I'm a participant. I'm involved. I'm responsible. Now, it could be me who is the victim of our kind's hatred. It could be me who sacrifices everything. It could be me who is left with the task of rebuilding.

And I would gladly and thoughtlessly do this.

But I don't think I'll ever stop fearing, questioning, trying to change this world that can hate itself so much.

So for now I don't think about, just in case someday it's all I do.

Acid Rain

The rain,
a life giving seed
pregnant with possibility and destruction,
washed away every doubt or hope
that I still carried
as a reminder of
the life
that we didn't share,
but would have
of the things that were never said,
but should have
and the images that don't exist,
but could have.

An alternate reality,
we were never meant to see.
An accidental crossing,
of our fatal jealousy.

Still, with you, the life I need,
wouldn't have
the things I want,
shouldn't have
and the person I am
could never have.

The rain may be a murderer,
but it plants a greater seed.
And I could never hope to end
my true speakers greed.