thank you for putting your boots on my pillow i had almost forgotten that part of our little dance
they were such a mess the laces looked like someone had used them to strangle themselves so i replaced them and burned the evidence there were a lot of stains that looked like blood you must have been busy in your time away i knew there were others i just hoped what we had was something special you always end up back here with me the two of us alone in this big, empty house
i spent all night getting them ready now i’m weary and threadbare so you can start kicking me when i’m down at your leisure
but wait until i don’t see it coming the anticipation is killing me
I guess I have always had wings But they were curled up so tightly against my back I didn’t know that they were there I always felt slightly awkward A little off balance Like a piece of me was missing Then one day You reached behind me and started pulling I felt myself give I was moving Expanding And inch by inch Bone by bone Wings started to emerge You kept easing them out Tugging Coaxing Forcing them open Until every feather was gleaming in the sun Bewildered and in awe I looked you in the eyes and asked “Where did they come from?” You touched my cheek and answered “They were always yours little one. You just needed my help to set them free.”
my veins are bleeding all over themselves and no one wants to do a thing about it
just because it’s under the skin they act like it can’t possibly hurt
what if i just fold back a piece of skin like this to show them all the mess in there?
they would have to help me then wouldn’t they?
of course we will and we’ve got a pretty white coat to help you heal yourself with love love love and sooner rather than later we can slow your speech down to a mumble and your gait down to a shuffle that will stop all of the nasty bleeding on the inside
we love you
we can do everything about it
now, why don’t you be a dear and show us your insurance card so we can tell you what percentage of everything we’re willing to save you from
the home as bulwark against not only the things we knew we would never have but also the thing we never wanted to become solitary dwellers on the sea of how the hell did i get here swollen with self-loathing and disappointment