Diana Darby ** "I V" ** Intravenous

Mother

I am still trying to escape them.
They are the sore in my pocket.
The deep seat of fear
that keeps me rabid.
Each morning,
the call of her voice
in my ear,
the one that keeps me paralyzed.
Each night,
her self-assured domination,
the elephant in my dreams
trampling me
over and over.
I have fought to keep them away
like malaria,
like typhoid.
I have fought to break free as best I could,
but Houdini’s chains were never as tight.
I have drowned myself in words,
and songs,
and books,
hundreds and hundreds of books,
trying to escape into the page
Mother.
But I can not.
Still she comes
with her calls and her looks
and her threats.
And there is nothing for me.
Nothing.
I have been the shell in this game for too long.
Empty underneath.
My pea went missing long ago.
I have tried to contain myself.
Tried to curl up embryo-like
and escape the blows.
But I am tired.
I am losing the fight.
I have been pecked clean of flesh.
A lost beauty
hanging in the closet
with nowhere to run.