September 11, 2014

bodies in motion


bare white walls
echoes of ghosts
were you even here?

the washing machine inside
my belly
is quiet now
colors are fading
so pale
fainter than erased pencil

i'm sorry

i wish i could put my brain in a jar
like pickles

i know there is room in your refrigerator
for my knotty dreads
put a lid on this skull
batten down the hatches
 
i wish i could just shut it up
shut it off
pull the plug

scramble my eggs
feed them to you
with one eye closed
not looking.

i know you

don't want me to look at you.