Bending,
Twisting,
I move my body unnaturally at the edges of your being,
writhing in response to your movements
in
and away.
I watch, hawklike, for a sign of approval
that rarely comes.
Like a dog that hasn’t learned to find food on its own,
I wait outside your house until the meager nourishment comes,
Devouring it,
and wait again.
I have got to be alone with myself,
I have got to escape your unfocused eyes!
I didn’t want to make you like this,
But it was done long ago.
You were a god before I was born—
benevolent,
unwittingly the center of my incapable mind—
but ultimately
Uninterested.
I tear, rip, and break at the seams where independence meets identity,
a lover unrequited,
and it would be strange to see you do the same.
I pull at my silk chains but all they do is give me paper cuts.
I have got to be alone with myself,
have got to escape your kind, powerful eyes,
Your benevolent gaze.
-Sarah Sanders, '12
