Hotelier In Framing
You fell for the first option presented of new rebirth.
You couldn't see it but you thought you'd believe it
since your soles cramping up have been swollen and sore.
Your new shoes back then just don't fit anymore.
You retraced the same shape, cut up and re-sewn,
when you felt abandoned, when you felt alone.
On New Years you resolved to make your chaos external.
Duress of sickening kinds. A half year blacked-out of my mind.
No string traced back to a place-marker.
Alleviate, erase failed attempts at obstructing machines.
Got drained when the crutch became vampiracy.
Bit off more than could chew and then swallowed it whole.
I choked on your temper when you felt alone.
The sirens cry loudly.
I am reflexive.
I cry loudly.
You put my picture in framing.
Hung forever. Left me strangling.
Called me 'baby'.
And with your nature reversed and our home as our cage,
you caved and you asked "is this coming of age."
As you climbed out the window, your face cold as stone,
you lifted the towel. Your wrist showed the bone.
I held my breath in the ER. I swayed as I stood.
I tried to stay steady to protect you the best that I could.
You pretended to sleep the entire ride home but I heard you crying
when you felt alone.
