I see you standing there
Staring at the rushing water.
The cement river flowing for the first time
Since last February.
Your clothes are so wet, they’ve become part of your skin
Like an outer shell.
Your life is like
The windows are boarded up, but the wind
And water still gets through.
Eyes squeezed shut,
You hug yourself -
Screaming so loud that no one can hear.
Tears stream down your face
They drop down into the grey water-
Tears so big
No one can see them.
Nails that are bitten raw dig
Dig into the railing that’s keeping you on the surface.
Moved to a small white room with no windows
For months and days and years.
Fed only bread and water
Through a tube.
Writing small words on the white sheets
Of your iron bed:
Problems with pride
slighting the audience or crowd surrounding with your eyes only looking forward
to your dire black screen
where the feathers are strewn in a careless pattern
but the wings themselves are aligned to the mirrors at angles so keen they scream in impatience at the wait
letmeoutofthisbody for pride swallows me
I want to be adored I seek that and self-love, against loathing
— The End —