Ten. In April We pretend to be dead Light as a feather, stiff as a board Fifty. In August I pretend to have energy Heavy as lead, itchy...

Have you felt the scar yet? The tissue is tough, The skin is tight. You are afraid to. That's okay. Take it slow. Here... just a finger....

Concrete pours over Her mind, her body, my soul. We are arrested in every me too. Have you been yelled into a corner until you cry? Me...