My hands are shaking
my mind has heard the crushing
of one thousand yearning vessels in my blood.

They're trying to change me
deranged but unoffered whispers
from behind me.
If I scrape out my eyes
they will never find me.

Never know me.
Feel me.
Hear me.
I scream.

This ardor binds to a distant world
maybe the next
maybe illusion.
Confusion
of what a soul means against
all of you.

Arch my back,
carry my head
and nail my feet down.

For what I am afraid
is not a place of tears.
Or of isolation--now I dream.
but of the binding invisible fortress
and my wrists...
these ropes....
this chair.

Being what part
of the greater whole
and finding that whole
wants no part of being.

These scraped knees
red with iodine
and the temporary cuts
but the bruises that remind.

Of what I fear
tell by this
unconquerable mind.