There is a place inside of me unreachable by normal means
but normal hasn’t lived here in many years
so you may not recognize that objects
are not as close as they appear
and you are not as close as I thought
could be I need a stronger prescription
or my vision suffers from acute rose colored tint.
There was a time when I zombied my way through my existence
believing rejection was an anagram of my name
regardless of the lack of similar letters
I would write poems
hang them around my room
pretend they were mirrors
every once in a while I’d glimpse my own reflection
I’d wave and sometimes I waved back.
There was a winter when I felt less myself than usual
I took a walk without a coat
shivered myself calmer
held myself like a lover and in that instance
I wasn’t alone in my loneliness
I have never been truly warm since.
There is a place inside of me sometimes I scream in there
the echoes feel like pulse
so loud I cover my ears
but I am the only one who feels the terror of it
the only one who hears
this is probably a good thing.