As a small child, the straps
that held me in my carseat
were the worst torture
imaginable. I remember straining
against them with all the might
in my tiny body, knowing
it was hopeless. Your silences
have become the car-seat-straps
of my life now. From the outside
they waited, beckoning in sheer
inevitability, and from the inside
I can see no way out
without ripping you in two.
Mar 4, 2014
Mar 4, 2014 at 11:55 AM UTC
As a small child, the straps
that held me in my carseat
were the worst torture
imaginable. I remember straining
against them with all the might
in my tiny body, knowing
it was hopeless. Your silences
have become the car-seat-straps
of my life now. From the outside
they waited, beckoning in sheer
inevitability, and from the inside
I can see no way out
without ripping you in two.
February 25, 2014
11:32 PM
