Let Me Out

The voices in the basement
with raw throats,
breath catching
in warped lungs empty of hope,

and I can hear them
scratching at the door,
begging to be let out,

so I listen,
I reach in,
and grasp their noise
with bleeding fists,

and I let them out.

I watch as they emerge
on tiptoes,
my sympathy,
my touch,
and I give in
as they grow claws
that sink into my wicked flesh.

I’ve relinquished control,
sending pieces of me
into your web,
into the prickly words
you call love,
but I’ve let them out
and I can’t go back.

The purity faded
into bubbling backgrounds
decades ago,
and I’m left with
tarnish and facade,
but you say it’s okay
because it’s just
what girls like me do.

It’s just who I am now.


a shining example
of what happens
when you let them out.




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