Disappointing vowels and consonants float above her.
They evaporate into her eye sockets
And shovel through her nervous system.
Searching for meaning in a world without a dictionary.
She begs surgeons to cut her open just to be sure she’s not hollow;
Stitching herself back together with shoelaces
And promises for better tomorrows.
The bunny goes around the tree and through the burrow.
She pours liquid poison down her scratched raw throat
To slur her speech and to stop the dreams of his callused hands.
His blue veined arms served as her roadmaps.
Without them she has to stop at dimly lit gas stations
And ask for directions.
Which way to normalcy?
Go to the 2nd star on the right, then straight on till morning.
Obediently she follows just to get lost again.
Originally appeared in the 2013-2014 edition of Outside In