rage and recovery

disgust is what love feels like

butterflies in my tummy

taste like bile in my throat

and warm skin feels like

a lump in the back of my throat.

i wonder what disease i inherited

from my mother who could not

strip herself bare for my father

and i wonder what wounds i gained

from my father who could not

tether his heart to one pair of lips

even for my mother.

i am unsightly 

my head screams

when you ask to see my smile.

i am hideous

my heart cries

when you look into my eyes.

the child with bright blonde hair

and a crooked smile

begs for the safety i have never known

and i skin my knees falling over myself

to try and provide for her

in ways no one else ever could.

but safety will always be 

barren winter landscapes

and doors locked tight

no matter how many times i try 

to convince myself to find safety

in his arms, his smile, his laugh. 

a deer in the headlights,

a buck spooked in the hazy dawn,

a startled babe screaming in the night,

these are the soundtracks of my heart,

and loneliness is my safety.

the shiny-eyed little girl is locked away

in the towers of my chest, 

replaced with a sharp-toothed beast

i do not recognize,

but danger will always follow me

and fear will always taint my lips,

and i wonder how long it will take

to swallow my fear and my hurt and my terror

without the alarms sounding in my head.