I often think of Arizona
He asks what I’m thinking about
I crinkle my nose, shrug it off as nothing
But I was thinking of Arizona -- escaping.

It is all too much.
Sometimes I want to pick up pack up flee
Yet I am paralyzed,
Confined in a shell that represents who I should be
(could, would, but never will)
The thoughts never stay dormant for long
The cockroaches in my brain start the process
Then the ants in my veins frantically run from my heart to my lungs to my every inch  
My tendons turn to barb wire; nothing is comfortable
But my smile remains, it must remain
For my smile keeps the shouts from escaping

Long hair
hair that covers my wishfully bony shoulders inconsistently

Inconsistent eyes
eyes that flash here and there, eyes that cover up a part that is unfinished

Unfinished body
body that is easily forgettable

Forgettable laugh
laugh that erupts with annoyance until it goes slow

Slow tongue
tongue that savors and starves and tricks and lies

Lying mind
mind that wants to know minds yet it deceives me; not controllable

Controllable heart
heart that wants to stand strong on something, anything, yet perishes in hibernating

Hibernating sleep
sleep walking through the day, waiting for time to be recycled

Recycled thoughts
thoughts that stick like mud, filling empty cracks and suffocating new birth bitterly

Bitter skin
skin that holds in the creepy crawling stinging

Stinging fear
fear that I cannot and will not be me

Me