Behind locked doors,
walls and fences,
in alarmed houses
in neighborhoods
with guard shacks.

With killers behind bars,
lions in cages
and sharks in tanks,
our fingers touch the glass
and do not tremble.

Behind gun barrels
or peace signs,
mountains of cash
or absurd ideologies.

Behind beliefs about self,
the world, reality,
and other people,
and clinging to those who agree.

And in inner chambers
and dark crawl spaces
hidden from shifting light,
we seek what we cannot have.

Not when the poison seeds
hide in us waiting to sprout
and rip us to shreds.

And yet,
we sprouted from these
same seeds like saplings
from rotting stumps.