The blood is thick here
circling around cold hearts
constantly trying to take my hand,
but never to hold it.
All eyes on me, looking like home,
I stare into them, memorize them,
until I recognize the color
of a lie folded over, disguised
like a mask that looks familiar;
I have been here before.
I don’t want to be anymore.
I see my spine in your eyes
turned weak, I see my heart
in your mouth as you chew it up;
well spit it out… I want it back.
I’m not taking your hand
so you can pull me to the place
you think I should go.
I know where my dreams are,
I remember the way.
I have emptied your eyes,
taken back what’s mine.
Don’t follow me.
I will follow my heart
for the first time in so long.
You can taste your own words,
feel the sharp edges
of all you made me swallow,
and finally understand
the complicated sadness of me
came from your hands, dripping
with jokes I never laughed at
and hearts I stopped trying
to warm into a home.
-Stephanie Bennett-Henry
