Prison in the Sanctuary

The shower is my favourite place to cry.

I love it and I hate it when I tell you a lie.

When darkness comes, I open up my door,

But all the while I try to sink through the floor.

Funny, how a place can be both a prison

and a sanctuary, where love has arisen.

Deep, deep into the soul and the pit

You’ll find matches that I had once lit

to burn the whole foundation down.

All I got was smoke and a twisted frown.

I see walls that are sometimes white,

crisp, pure and full of light.

But when you are angry, you turn the walls

red, so red. Like blood splatters, deck the halls,

With fury and fear, chaos, I am your deer.

You choose to make hazy our mirror

Until, we no longer stand before it, we’re dead.

My deer eyes are no longer haunted in your head.

The marching rhythm of your fists

beat away my urge to fight, my wrists

are so white and fragile, I can’t bring myself

to touch them, it’s not their fault, it’s you yourself.

Sometimes my head carries more than it can handle

I wonder why it doesn’t explode and burn this scandal,

This scandalous hell, so private, so silent.

It’s funny how to others you are so non-violent.

You save all the red for me and I am the only deer

who will always live behind your headlights, in fear.

A coward, that’s me. If only I knew what this life

would grow to be, maybe I could stop fearing the knife.

The shower is my favourite place to cry

When I’m there I don’t feel the need to try.

                           r.m.