| Needs Choke
on
feelings
under rice paper skin,
cellulite gathers like bee stings
on lumpy legs,
once long and slim.
Hands knot like dried apples,
belong to another, with veins
raised like distended road maps,
blue with angleworms.
Days, steal my time.
Now complete, I live again
with thoughts for myself,
past journeys belonged to others,
constant care for them, gone.
I was always last in line.
The circle of life sweeps
back to childhood in many ways.
I want more for the invisible me,
crave substantially...
as a child requires selfishly.
So . . . do not agree with me,
just understand my needs,
they must be the same for you;
some semblance of self.
Your silence spurs me on.
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