No Long Ants

You were never put together properly. Joints glued, pierced, taped together--- You were a statue, hollow inside and unmoving stoic in the delivery of hate against me. I once feared your heartbeats, your labored breathing. Because I have lived like an ant beneath your foot Waiting for the thick soled boot to fall And crush me All legs and guts, Blood red— Your calcified soul does not know that the time between my heartbeats echo strong. But I know. You thought I was nothing. But I am more than you will ever know. I was sanded down, barely breathing or daring to achoo since you gathered my grains, separated my heart from my head, and stored me away. Because it was my fault? Because I was different? I understand now, though, counting the red stars and those of blue color too. You feared my potential- My love for the word and the pen. We are not that far apart, not scattered ashes across seas mingling with the dust of other lost souls who ache like us. I was a knife going in. Piercing your little, Shriveled black heart Twisting your inability to return my humanity. It seemed I was your darkness. But you were mine.