Cold metal clasps pinch the skin on my wrist
A mechanism designed to protect myself from you.
Black dust swirling beneath my feet in an opaque box
A space for my heart to exist as it closes the blinds.
Gray meat within my skull pulses; ba-dum, ba-dum
A stand-in for my heart while it stays at home.
Fear is a policeman.
II. Forked Roads
Cold metal clasps create chances to break free
A mechanism to be defied?
I stand still so the dust may settle as the box becomes translucent
A space for my heart to exist as light pours through the blinds?
Gray meat within my skull; only vibrating now
My cognitive functions shut down as I reach out my arm…
Fear is an opportunity.
III. A Positive Reaction
Cold metal clasps chain me to a wall
People smile and clap, standing before me.
My skin, peeled open from small cuts
I sense others perceiving my insides.
Against the wall I struggle to stand and smile amongst the applause
An animal trying to be an animal while being observed.
Fear makes a laminated photograph.