she’s camouflaged red and brown voices appear closer than they are so if she closes her eyes she can play tricks on her mind to keep from breathing too loudly. just keep dividing – she says just keep dividing. (whose name is my name?)
she’s alone in the room where it’s dark and where it’s silent like the grave you dreamt I was in last night, now you’re ashamed to admit it it was going to be a secret it was going to sound silly once I put it on paper (it does)
she didn’t have to say the boy’s name (riley) still, it was out before we knew your ****** orientation and they told you “the door’s over there” but you knew you were glued to the spot because sometimes words feel like concrete.
she should have known it would be a mess, she should have known that when she cleaned she would find your ring somewhere beneath the couch or the rug and she would wear it quietly until you forgot it was gone (it is too easy to be silent and too hard to speak)
she found her faith in something different lying beneath a persimmon tree, begging to be picked up before it rotted between the orange, cinnamon fruits (my teeth feel soft) but now she has to write down her secrets on a peice of paper slip them into her pocket, where we can all be blind to what she's done (just keep dividing keep dividing)
she thought becoming a woman was more than being able to bleed she thought her voice would be soft she thought her eyes would be quiet she thought she would feel something new (some sort of reverence) but she’s been walking with her eyes closed and asking for more than she needs when all she really wants is for people to see the inside of her soul.