Car lights blare,
my eyes
reflect a soul that swims
in circles of doubt and untangles
from webs of guilt

Plenty of room for prisoners
who would rather live underwater
than die above the stocks of wheat

Names are letters, syllables, words
just things that we have but don't really need
We stuff in our holey pockets the pictures
sleeping in the bottom of our brains
Keys, lockets, rings, photos, journals,
birthday cards, children's toys
that moan. They knock on our skulls
and whine barely loud enough
for the world
to hear

Forget the souls and horrors
Forget the unicorns we rode
the rainbows we drew with crayon
on our bedroom walls
the parents who screamed when we
dropped our sippy cups on the white
linoleum,
when we spit out sour milk that
stuck to the roofs of our mouths