How Small, too small; how much, too much

Something before school starts.

I let You confine me to those four walls.

I gave You control because you knew what to do with it.

I trusted You because I couldn’t trust myself

because I comforted myself

in the corners of a dark room, cowering at a keyboard

keeping everything sharp away from me,

but for some reason, keeping those cutting words close to my heart, to my wrists.

But today, I’m taller.

I can look You in the eye,

and see Your mind calculating

What are the words that can get her back into those four walls?

There are no words because I know them all.

I know the tricks and I turn them into mansions of metaphors.

I am the admin offices, and I’m the trenches–

I am a barren valley, and I’m an insurmountable mountain–

I am an elegant skyscraper, and I’m a leaning, dilapidated art house–

I am a fighter, and I’m a huffing car–

I am dust, and I am the split atom–

I am the Sun’s, and she is mine. I am the Moon’s, and they are mine,

and there is nothing I will not do to remember that I found myself on dirty sheets and bleeding paper, not in You.