Shadow Poetry

behind the deadbolt

how can i speak? when my tongue is in the bedside table, where i left the salt and took the gun…

and every time i walk down the stairs in these heels, i feel your rules, cutting into my soul, stealing every inch of light i have left.
two ways in, two ways out.
i forgot to mention.

if i don’t like it, i can break it, re-shape it, re-make it.
you don’t have to be here.

with all your height, all your size, my monsters are towering over your head, watching you sleep and eat and breathe, chains dangling round their throats, begging me to let them go.
maybe i am
my own armor. but i left it under the bed, beside my skin, and i took the knife you wanted to put in my back.

when you hit my spine with your heel, my words came tumbling out.
the beside table burst and the boogeyman under my mattress rushed up and out and now i know why my shoes never fit right before.
its like the dust in me turned to stone, all those years of kneeling morphed to fire, my skin remembered it’s own savor and now

i’m not putting the barrel in my own mouth.
i am my own gatekeeper.
i forgot to mention.
the hinge swings when i say and once i’ve opened i’ve decided. are you the weapon or the meat?

your daggers i collect as roses in a vase made of bone-carved trophies, my darkness pacing in the background, holding all their tally marks until the rage spills into my sight and sometimes i let them off the chains, digging about in my own shadows, where they wait, just inside my gates.
i will wait you out. your grave will serve as my foundation, the length of rope about your neck a gift you spat in the face of, all the way to your feet dangling.

Stream of Consciousness

Sit Like a Lady

Bite your tongue!

Do as you’re told.

You should smile more.

You don’t belong here.

Nice girls don’t get angry.

I need it.

Grin and bear it.

Don’t be ungrateful. Do as he said.

You were asking for it.

Sit like a lady.

NO