Wicked thoughts tossed across the room, with stuffed pillows and ancient trinkets
Bleeding heart pounding into dense ears
For why, what is happening?
Mind spies memories color coded like worn journal pages
Littered with memories of Michael
The friend, the confidante, the familiar stranger
Strong brown fingers hurt
Where before they healed
Pulling and stripping away sugar coated déjà vu’s
How do you prepare?
The faces of milk carton victims
Scream of faces, of eyes, of bodies unknown!
Barricaded behind bolted doors and infrequent defense classes
Shaking hands wrapped tightly around rubbered handles
And sharpened blades
Yet for the wrong one.
Michael’s eyes ring true of good friend, gentle soul
Designed to prove warrior to defend
A soul gentler than his own,
But they lie
Sweat beads litter his brow,
Furrowed deep into face full of hate
Oh the pounding won’t stop…
It just won’t stop…
Too prepared to battle the unknown
The hate that slides, scaled skin, through cracked windows
Through shifted walls
To pounce ever so panther- like upon vulnerability…
But he was late
And now familiar fingers, arms, legs
Leave strange pain burned into my flesh
Who comes, when hatred pollutes the heart of friend
And lust envelopes soul of ally?
And fear becomes Michael?
Tears burning into hardwood floors
Worn from dancing
Now worn from violations too inhumane to speak of
Where is the protocol? Where is the preparation…
Who gets the blame
Shall I be labeled victim,
To have my cause, my case, fought within the confines of heaven and hell?
For Michael to burn within corpse gray walls and rot in 8 by 10
To twiddle fingers that rip and scrape and scratch and steal…
Or am I guilty, am I my own culprit?
Forced my own vengeance against my flesh, my own blood to seep into the floorboards
To dry and cry out like lost souls in purgatory, … in limbo
Life does not find me victim
It questions a sensible mind and deems her
Too wishy- washy to complete the promise
To seal the deal
To hold up my end of the bargain
For dinner translates sex
For dinner translates want to
For dinner, despite the scream, the fight, the tears, the fear, the incessant
Dinner, to Michael, means
my friend Michael
innocent of trust
guilty of RAPE!