Diana Darby ** "I V" ** Intravenous

Torn Fruit

This liquid running
of tears
into the self but not self
perplexes me.
The childlike flow
back and forth from present
to past
without control
leaves me
demonized
like torn fruit.
Ripped and pulled
and sucked
over and over
legs spread
against their natural direction.
The rag doll in the corner.
Hair askew.
Eyes black holes.
Mouth stitched closed.
A broken lifeless body
bleeding in silence
waiting
always waiting.

It was the only green one in the room.
I rolled it and held it under my chest
and when I moved
I did not take it with me.
She lied and she said it was hers.
But it was mine.
It was mine.
The dark
is mine to hold
with nothing
but shoes.
My sister
shut me in
over and over
Shut me
in
and left me
exhausted
unable to get out.

I want out
but no one will open the door.
So I lie here
on my back,
unable to breathe,
unable to know
where I am,
my blanket
on the other side of the room.