Born  #132
September 10, 1998

Amongst the sterile
and universal surgical steel
I was born, The nurse named me
and I was sent on my way

You clothed me
in shame and illness
Fed me from
oversized bowls and
crystal drinking glasses
My bedroom, small,
nine by nine at the end
of a long hallway
The furthest part of the house
was home
I kept thoughts secured
in black and white speckled
science lab journals

In the darkness
I imagined my room
to be an outstretched hand pulling
away from the warmth of
your body

When I was fifteen
I painted the walls blue
and spent my days deciding
if I picked the right color

Winter afternoons
I spent peering out the windows
my nose stiffening
to the cold smell of draft
and frostbitten wood
It made me think
of the old coffin
in the basement closet
where you kept your wedding dress
and later
your over spill of black shoes

In the middle of the night
by flashlight
I would peel the sheets off my mattress
With a blue pen
I would write obscenities and self truths.

At legal age I moved out
of your museum of elk
heads, petrified wood,
cane collections and brass
lamps. I took my shame
with me hog tied to the
roof of my car.

Ten years later I can
still feel my words burning
through the back of my pillow