pray

And as you pray for your daily bread,
ask for a tongue that tells no lies,
then ask for hope,
and for a blessing on yourself.

Run,
as you hope for a self that is a shelter,
I run from eyes I fear to meet in dreams.

Run boy, run.
Run where?
I saw myself collapsing
beneath the weight of a feather,
or at least put on a good show.

I'm used to being used to fight,
and as fear fears pain
and hope is killed by resentment,
I carry anger like scars like stars
ornamenting my shoulders,
a proof, an echo of a boof —
set there to frighten unkind eyes.

Yet They frightened me.

I lacked shelter for the long nights
where I knew no rest.
There is a steady stream,
springing from eyes I fear to meet in dreams —
a steady stream leaving marks
on domestic items,
a dark brown desk, an old book, a green couch,
and on the last words I said,
where I was no longer kind.

So I lacked shelter.