"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
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.