this is how I walk now, alone

you know,
these hips,
they don't need to squeeze
through doorways
and clothes,
and seats,
anymore;
they kiss the breath
between things
with the feather of their skin;

you know,
these breasts,
they don't need to pout
for selfies,
and hungry mouths,
and group hugs,
anymore;
they singe desire
between the walls of this spine,
with the flames of their fullness;

you know,
these eyes,
they don't need to clamber
through walls,
and masks,
and wraps,
anymore;
they slice the dark void
between you and me,
with the blade of their truth;

you know,
this is how I walk now,
alone.

the scream

something is ripping off this bandage
I've worn
for many years,
perhaps since I was born.

layers peel off
one warp and weft at a time;
I can feel every hair
smart and pull
and singe,
I can feel
every pore that holds them,
being pried open slowly,

and nothing comes out
but this one shot of breath,
sparking the fires
that choke me;
unable to speak,
all I can do is shriek
and fall into that chasm
of dark silence
where there is no skin to hold me,
only the white emptiness
shrieking back at me.