I am living in a capsule
I am shielded from outside forces,
hurting
pain
and
sallow emotions

these are orange

I am shielded by this boundary
that my mind constructed
A prisoner to my own ways
forever defending me
from your
rude
and stabbing
jagged jars

and your

sharp
and jarring
warnings

these are red

it may sound nice
that I am immune

this is blue

But the privilege of the good emotions
all the
warm
and happy
delicious laughs

which are yellow

I no longer have

because I am a prisoner
of cause and effect-
you cause and I deflect

Now I am an outsider on the inside
forever watching all the colors
as they
bounce off my capsule wall.

how much trauma can fit
inside of you between the gaps
before your nerves begin to fail
and your ventricles collapse;

a leash pulling your thoughts
behind a barbed wire fence
a muzzle to control your words
as a last line of defense;

a defective, broken down body
stemmed from a tortured mind
equals an futile unfinished sculpture
with a hollowed out inside

Wash your hands before leaving.
Every afternoon the television would have a woman in tears
Spanish dialogue, pastel colored sets
Tongue in cheek, modern romance sipping iced tea by the pool
The antagonist wearing a suit and three rings on each finger
Pause.
Soap bars are made of fat, the grease found in
Breakfast diners and sweat off a teenagers face
The lipids turning gelatinous and all I can think of is
Jell-o; the strange colored dessert that doesn’t taste like anything real
My hands begin to itch and I stand up
Wash your hands before leaving.
My hands have become open desert, dry animosity
The skin around the knuckles is delicate, one clench of a fist
I am sure that it will tear, like the skirt of a girl I once knew
But there are creatures lurking everywhere
In the handle of the bathroom door, in the shake of another hand
In the touch of a frame, in the grip of a key
Wash your hands before leaving.
The scattered murmurs on the screen remind me its 5p.m
The women are arguing with their manicured hands
Their eyes all having the same spidery lashes, spiders
I feel insects crawling under my bones
Termites clipping at my heels as I sit in this couch of horrors
I didn’t know the last time it had been washed
It smelled of the 1970’s and I want to go home
The babysitter is on the other chair reclined
Snoring, letting out bacteria through her mouth
At 8 years old I should be on the floor with a coloring book
My lips are dry, the screen is too bright, I can feel the filth everywhere I turn
So I stay
I hear the door knock and it’s my mother picking me up after work
My lungs sigh of relief
Time to go
But first
let me wash my hands before I leave

She loved the world too easily,
She had no way of knowing
That life will wait to strike you down
When your soft side is showing.
She gave of self, such sacrifice
And when little else was left,
Twas cast aside most heartlessly
Left broken-down and so bereft.

Now bitterness her sword and shield
She wields with silent fervor,
And keeps her love from light of day
And those who don't deserve her,
And trust, it seems, the stuff of dreams,
She's buried far too far down,
In self-defense, it makes no sense
To ever let your guard down.

She has forgotten how to love
As she did way back before,
Before heartache had worn her down
Until she could take no more.
Perhaps someday she'll find a way
Her heart can again be free,
Til then, trust seems the stuff of dreams
Of some faded yesterday.

am I hard to please?
or are you just
insufficient
a machine, out of order
you've come to do less
for me
than I've done
for you
like a machine,
I will put you away
for someone else
to use