Blisters rub my skin,
Shed my bones,
And tear my fingernails to shreds.
Crippled into misery,
I find myself dripping…
Farther–
From the sane life I was promised
By a poisoned voice,
Singing hymns
For the gods that swish through stories.
Words that bleed with ink that
Does not bear the mark of trust-
They plucked my life;
Dangling me from the twisting beam
And yielded fear to beat my heart for the journey ahead.
Far too often the piles cascade too high
I can't see the top of who I am
even though I chose each object,
each emotion,
and each action.
I can't understand the tip of the iceberg though
The first time the words touched my ears
I sobbed,
stricken on the ground.
The second time,
I cried
and was inconsolable.
The third time
My existence is not for others
it does not heal the wounded
my words are costume, foam steel at most.
I exist to live a life that continues the cycle
I'm a mirror of society that has painted
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