the Poet woke me up one night
and said why are you trying to kill me
I said that's nonsense go back to sleep
suddenly I felt something gripping
the life out of me pressing against
my chest from the inside
as if my soul were breaking out
in heart flames ingesting gasoline
I emerged fighting I couldn't let it out
how did it know how could it have
found out my intentions what
could have given me away
removing the label throwing the
bottle away it was just a throbbing
headache I was trying to get rid of
engulfed in pain ridding myself of blame
ripping &tearing up all the shame
shredding my given name like
cheddar through a cheese grater
casting a stone and putting away my hand
looking over my shoulder to see
how far I ran knowing I missed
no place is safe from my consciousness
Superman by night Clark Kent by day
broken clay pots ink prints on the wall
black feathers found in the hall
nine crying muses on my door step
a foster child of a bewitching stepmother
stealing the majik while I was sleeping
on the foldout couch in the speckled
spackled shingled covered houses
masking the past but can't kill the
thought too many palpitations in the beat
introvertively speaking ignore everyone
warning, Do Not Go Too Deep
unless someone is designated
to dig you out from underneath
all the rubble once the Poet feels
a shake and senses trouble
the whole outer court erupts