beeline

I do have a reason for

The snow collecting

At my bedroom window

And the frost

Suffocating the ivy

That once framed my glass.

My one lens is showing me

My surroundings

And sometimes I forget

To breathe

To stop speaking

To let the air sizzle

To let the implication

Just

Settle.

Well, the reason is

A resentment collecting

Inside my abdomen

Humming and heavy

Just atop my ribs.

My secrets are everybody’s;

I’ve spilled of all

My most precious privacies

And now it’s in my throat

Inflating the status

In my head.

Every day I’m picking

A new dead horse…

I am beautiful

But I am not.

Or, I am, but

It’s not worth the hell

That accompanies

Like some hidden fee.

I feel nauseous

Pouring from the inside out

Being so

Hyperaware

Of every person

Who sees me,

Of the pain of being subject

To perceiving.

- M. Rose