Slowly consuming bread chopped into cubes that were put into a ziplock bag. Parents talking to the preacher and siblings crowding around them. I hear the church doors open and look up to see who's coming in. A congregation member needing to talk to Paster Charles? A man walks in with gun pointed at Charles. Conversation and laughter stops. Fear written on most of the faces. I don't recognize this man but Charles seems to.

"Bill, calm down. Put the gun away," he says in a soothing tone. "Let's just talk. There's no need for all of this."

"No!" The man crys, seeming to have a lisp to his speech. "I-I'm tired of talking!" My father and mother have causally ushered the kids behind them. Shielding them from the future. "At least let the kids go. They have nothing to do with this." Charles continues. Bill considers it. His face contorting into a look of pain and confusion. "No no no no no no....NO!"

"Okay, okay. Calm down Bill-"

Mumblings and ramblings as a reply.

What would have happened if we left when we said we would.

Heels causing aching feet

Stomach roaring in protest

Face feeling heavy

Arms tired from a remarkably heavy purse

Feeling confident in a long black dress

Leather jacket comforting

Cheeks hurting from laughter

A mix of love and hurt

A mix of stability and falling apart

A mix of what I feel and what I should feel

"what the fuck did she do to you?"

I have screamed

even though I know

the exact placement of

your scar tissue

what I need you to understand is

you are a work of art

I have traced your bone structure

I have felt your muscles ripple

the vulnerability in your strength

is outlined in your eyes

and your back has been painted

with constellations of freckles

but only on half your body

separated by your spine and

I wonder if the other half feels

empty and I wonder if it was

your left or your right

the first time and I wonder

if you heard his words

or if you've only heard them

recounted

in her tear streaked voice and

I wonder

how you breathe sometimes 'cause

I've felt your lungs collapsing and

I've watched your pulse

spike when he is mentioned

you're so defensive

but terrified

I know you have a

backbone

I've traced it more times

than I can remember but I think

you're afraid

it has a mind of its own

you reassure me that you will

never hurt me but I never

had that fear I think you're

just trying to convince

yourself

Each candlestick

Must need a light,

Must need a flame

To brave the night.

Each man must need

A life-desire

And forge his faith--

Or lack the fire.

the pieces of me fit so perfectly folded in your palm I lost the desire to be whole again

every single shard of my existence was embedded in my desire to feel your lips and your hips and I know it wasn't love but it was so close and I was foolish enough to mispronounce lust

my shrapnels have found a home in your entrails and I am not strong enough to dig them out with my fingernails but I clawed at your back and I did my best to set them free

sometimes things got messy but you have to understand

nothing is given

and the price for the sight of my body was your eyes

let me tell you it's easier to cut open a corpse with scissors than it is to shoot out blind or shout out mute and you had me gagged

I've held my own heart bloody in my hands

the bits of you mixing with the bits of me and I've realized

you're the ice that froze my pulse

but at least

frost bite

prevents

colds