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.