hallmarks
of torture
sitting in fetal position
corner of this hotel hallway
alone with my thoughts
just as if i was home.
they know not what’s inside of me
raging mad insanity
years of insecurity
tears as a child i couldn’t cry
fears of things gone by
unmarked flesh which yearns
for scars, some evidence
that it was disturbed.
so many years lived
all in my head mean nothing
i was always alone.
one ran from the beast;
the other tried to tame it –
no others dare come close.
is the slate cleansed? never.
why must i be this way?
and even when i scream for
attention i may as well be mute.
a frightened child
wedged into his corner
fragile, untouched, afraid
alone in his mind.
a sad result, this tragedy
of a life defined by the hate
ignorance insecurity of its
world, the same world that
is done with it now, and
would like it on a shelf
to display, to ridicule
as just another victim
but i can’t go out like that
i knew that since ten
an undeniable truth that
through all this it must
change but when? and
how much lower must i sink
before i can rise?
-11/16/97
somewhere outside scranton, pa