suppression

the stag knows, familiar the feel of the hair on the back of your head

the sound is a sound omnipresent as the ringing in your-

river rambling over your submerged ears

He lifts you up to taunt you just to shove you under again

this is how the apple bobs- with rocks inside your gaping maw, this is how he haunts you even when he’s gone 

the lamb knows little and yet more than most, knows how to soothe, knows what to say, knows what to cover 

and how to hide, knows how to hold you 

and how to bide her time

so as pages turn you can see a pattern emerge in the ink 

that sours the fiber- 

you’re wounded and you’re bloodied and raw and before

you bite she muzzles your maw

Now now, darling, don’t hate- you should feel bad for them. You stay your hand you bite your lip

but the anger stays, a rattlesnake, wasps buzzing by your-

Bathtub faucet scalding as it runs over your submerged ears

He knows familiar the way you writhe in fear 

and he lifts you up to laugh and you laugh in return

you find that inside you all fire has died 

and the sky is a blanket no noise can travel through

you get hit in the head, you apologize 

you stage your own mugging, fist your hands through your pockets, you hold a gun to your own chest 

and then you drop it- hate along with it 

and you are lighter than air- you float above the ground

and apples flit around like lady bugs and land in your hair

the stag pulls you down periodic 

his hands briefly mnemonic, it flashes behind your eyes

but you catch it and he pulls you up to watch

and you watch back