wandering eyes (0417--0420)

my wandering eyes

searching for escape

under faint bluish light

between silver birch halls

where space feels tight

as the corpses line up

I am caught in the trap

of snapping branches

and the flapping of wings

to the shots of your anger

it’s your sweet smothering mouth

poisoning my mind

with pleading prayers

for me to come by

as if you didn't have me, as if I had a choice

as if you had not intercepted

a heart that pounds too fast,

the shortness of breath,

and two legs that fail to run 

but instead, quiver 

to the sound of your cries,

as if each word were a bullet

and this hunt, a rehearsed ball

please, stop looking 

at my wandering, lost eyes

they’re searching for the escape

as if I didn't understand that I have no choice

as if you were not the predator

and my legs could dance, 

instead I’m snared and they’re 

cold, pale, tied up