I was born an adult.
the tubes tied around my feet
holding me to stand.

I was never meant to crawl.
I grew like a tree-
never dead on the outside.

Ashamed of my insides.

but crying was for the girls next door-
jumping, smiling, giggling...
whispers from a keyhole.

I was always spying on them.
The ones who could see
the sandcastles
& rainbows.

But I was too busy
filling cannons with my emotions,
Hoping they would hit the moon.
Blocking love
with responsibility
using empathy as a mask.

Afraid,
I am still hiding in the tree trunk.

Waiting for the roots to let me go

The great mistake

The great mistake
Came from inside her hallow subconscious.
The darkness was a friend,
One she could rely on
For many things.
But this time it couldn’t save her

She wandered,
Pretending nothing had changed
Blinking at the rhythm of her heartbeat
Dancing with the muscles in her legs.
But it was the silence that broke her

Breaking like the wind
Her arms froze like porcelain.
She couldn’t remember it;
How to escape this feeling.

A robot obsession
Thoughts coiled
Through her ears
And down her spine.

A mass was growing.
Fracturing
Morphing
Depleting,
Her strength.

Was this death?
Or was this growing up…

The government runs like a machine
Out of gas.
The frequent exasperation's
Whisper into gears
Of the human mind-
Desperate for air
That is no longer polluted.

I pull back.
The moments between
Clarity and confusion,
Floating.
Words run dry
Imprinting the desert.
These Empty steps
Let go
Deflating sanity

An empty box
with rubber
Screwed into the sides.
Deaf attachments
Linger,
As if
Tools of shame,
sorrow,
And hope
Are no longer left.

Chugging,
Smoking,
Vibrating,
The machine continues on.

I watch,
Eyes watering,
Teeth chattering,
Waiting…

To stop the machine