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"Intermission" by David M. Taylor

I'm fucking drunk

on wine and self-doubt

about exposing my mind

that’s left me with only a skeleton.

My skin has been stripped raw

and buried in the thick ground

where I'll remain until I sober up

and can handle my reflection.

I try to convince myself

the drums in my chest are normal

and the sirens in my head

are part of understanding the mind.

But I'm full of shit,

and I lie to my therapist

so she’ll still like me.

And I’ve never told her

what if my scarred arms

were only the first act,

and this is the intermission

before the final scene. 

"Anya" by David M. Taylor

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You were born dead

before I even met you.

Your body broken

and too weak to remain.

I imagine what you’d be like

at the park

climbing outstretched trees

in winter.

Filling cold air

with your breath.

But I only have a simple photo

from the doctor

that rests in a shoebox

in the attic.

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