no more dusty cellars
no more clammy palms
no more peeling wallpaper
no more stained ceiling tiles to count and pass the time

no more little red lights to perform for

no more blood to wash away
no more bruises to hide

no more you.
no more us.
no more them.

          when i wake up the sun pools over my nakedness,
          and i know
          this body, this soul, this story
          is my own.

                                         i write
                                         i sing
                                         i dance
                                         i clean
                        
                                                              i enjoy my time alone.



the chains have broken
rusted out
the years melt with the snow
the porcelain doll is shattered
the child is grown.