My voice has the power to disembowel
and I have used her, at times, as a weapon
though she has never served to avenge me.
The mass of your web impinges
upon my meager thread and we grow together,
spinning until our seams match.
The vertigo of my youth fills me with weeping
and I can think of nothing that would
account for this shrill blue sky and my terrible feelings.
Being blind for the people, by the people
I agree to adhere to the madness we have collectively chosen
though I do not know why I have chosen it
when I fought so long and hard against it.
My heart insists that there has been a betrayal,
that I am not fit to govern her though she is forever
in my keeping. She collides with me like a drum,
membranes drooling, I have denied her everything.
She wants space but I cannot give it to her.
Sometimes I remember myself as a child
and I wonder if perhaps we liked each other more
but in reality we liked each other less.
Until I am safe I imagine it is better not to feel.
We are never safe and I continue to feel
with fanatical precision all that is on offer.