His words could become sharp as corners

And trap you there

Flailing in his grasp

They could pinch your skin

Until you cried

And cried

Throughout your shifts

They could catch your wrists and stop you

From moving on

From moving

They could lock the doors, no leaving

They could shame you and shrink you

They could come flying in from an open window,

A buzzing phon...

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SMASH!

Every time the glass of your skull

Crashes into the fist of another memory

To crush you where you stand

Because another memory has broken you

Because another memory has entered you

Like intruders, they force their way inside

They punch their way into your attention

They invade your heart

Until you must look at them

All so that they can violate you again

They...

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Your skin like the yellow brick road,

and what is it that creates that rush of blush?

I’d love to shovel out your flesh or drill through your cheeks

to reach those autumn leaves,

that grow behind the golden weeds,

the red leaves that were never green.

No, never new, they never grew,

they stayed and they remained:

Dying, but never dead,

thriving, behind your face of ...

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