I.

I am holding my cat in my arms
						                   I am not holding my cat
						                   instead, I am holding a bird
						                   who belonged to a friend
I place him in a shoebox 
and carry him with me
everywhere I go					
and show him to no one
						                   afraid someone else will see him for
						                   what he isn’t or that he
in this broken body
						                   never mine
						                   still took something of me with him.
He sleeps undisturbed
frozen in time and place
						                   I have to continue on
						                   the weight of him
peaceful						
						                   crushing
quiet							
						                   breaking my spine
still
				   I have to continue on.


II.

Surrounded by everyone I know		
				                        I mourn 
						        my mother
						                             Though when I open my eyes
						                             she’ll be alive.
Walking through a maze
I’m led to my room				
						                             curtains drawn, I’m given peace
warm, welcoming
				                        but still 
				                        not home
						                             instead, a tension-taunt tightrope
						                             to sleep on.
After unpacking my things
everything that I have left
I know that
						                             Years of cutting my soles
						                             on eggshells taught me this
I can rejoin the ones I love but
						                             no one feels the pain the same
						                             way I do
they won’t hear the breaking
of my heart
						                             and I don’t want them to.

Can’t they see me					     No, they can’t see me
				                        crying.


III.

I am small; my father picks me up		I am grown; my father lets me down
from the car rider line				        to the red elephants
where I hear him cry out			        “join them, join me.”
crossbow bolt protrudes from			his chest, puffed with pride
his body, no longer recognized		        his eyes, cold and glass-blown
yet still he drives				                his point, forward into me
I can’t escape it				                though I still try to fight it
I am scared					                I know I am on my own.