by Heather Rae

though i long to run
but my soles bare, and
those who know are just as surprised.
boot camp, but i guess
i missed that day.
each piece leaving evidence as i step
i have learned it's necessary,
i need it, the feel,even now,
i hear them,
"do you feel your feet
on the ground?" he asks.
Mostly i think,sometimes.
I have to hold my breath but you know,
what are friends for?
i find myself keep getting lost,
hurry along now,must catch up,
i wish I could see the words
coming out of my mouth
like the bubbles.
then i would be certain
except for when you know better,
even whispers need invisibility
i look down,
my knuckles wearing white.so soon?
the blanket no longer fits
and time has not been kind,
stains are not the only clues.
i smirk at the irony. “security”
they call it, anything but i say.
Still it will remain clenched
as long as . well nevermind i hold it
just as much as it holds on to me
like keeping track,
at least i wont ever
truly be lost
it knows my beginnings
as will it the ends.
i'm not sure, will i have been
the prey or hunter, moving on.
Day or night , can't decide,
not terribly important, dreams
in any case, or mares.
I march tediously,
but i am resting, sort of,
on fake white leather seats,
each crooked line of its decrepitness,
pinches the backs of my not so
tiny thighs.
but not for long as i return,
finding the road an obnoxiously
steep incline.
Overhead i hear the dark,wooshing.
you would think i'd be smarter
after so many years, not to look up,
guess not.but the jury's still out,
just like the cats, curiosity?
Sayings, still ain't figured them out,
so i give in, focus on
the ghastly scene playing out,
right overhead. So unpredictable,
their flight paths seem random,
and yes it's certain
those pointy beaks will
surely make their mark.
"Onward soldier", he commands.
I forget those beady, watchful eyes,
to smart for their own good (or evil).
i scratch my head,
hoping that my destination,
somehow finds it's escape,
not sure, was i even told where?
Wouldn't be the first time i was left out!
The enemy , an his nasty lot,
just over the hill, they smell,
like what yesterday left behind,
or the spot the cloth missed,
can never be clean enough.
trust me, i've tried.
Seeing them before ieven in view.
i decide now ,time to chance a quick peek,
just to be sure
but over my shoulder shouts come, " eyes straight ahead!"
they're still nearing.
i shouldn't fear,just the usual.
My trusty, yet faded, blue jeans, course
they seem to keep shrinking, but I still
manage squeezin' my thoughts,safely in
specially the wrong ones,gettin' harder to tell
which is which. before it snatches
my feet right out from me.
This other side, it’s more
like upside down, then a descent.
Just a quick catch of breath
before i notice I've been caught.
"Stay focused" he shouts.
"I WAS" I hear inside,
screaming in my ear, looking down ,
dazed and yet, not so confused.
I've learned to look for clues, learn the tricks,
not even a crumb. I just watch the sweat
slowly seeping from here
and there, cooling sores
for not paying attention.
I'm sorry I forgot the welcome mat,it happens,
but you did stop by, before bringing your tidings,
and no never glad
and always leaving with the floor,
full of mud. No one said easy.
but really, quicksand? Ok ,maybe just
heavy muck, symantics
I raise my hand, nobody calls my name
but i still try ,cuz maybe just once.
Not ever missing my hesitation,
his well rehearsed.
"Is there a problem?”
“No sir! …er
I mean Yes Sir" I reply.
Do you think he noticed?
eeny meeny...
there's no time
for games, i snicker cuz isn't it?
"it's a root or a branch Sir."
Maybe a secret admirer heading this way,
but on this side of town?
A foreigner? Hah, not so fast!
i may be young but not born today
i know better than to disobey.you do it,
yes,the It, that i've had and i didn’t sign up for
Enter a distraction, she starts,
hoping to help ease my struggle,
"Once upon a time…”her smiling voice,
genuine though, background noise,
i tune it out, i know the ending.
What's the mission? ah, yes
i remember now. Face the real stranger
though we've met , once too many times before
and he whistles nothing near a happy tune.
Like a pigeon, I try to find my way back,
never forget where you belong,
i don't remember who said it, but i can guess.
Taking a different path , one that grows walls.
I am intentional with each step. I know, i know
i have my orders,"but so do i!"Who said that?
Someone's been taping their shoe,
knowing all along ,i would need a mad dash.
To just miss the slamming drawbridge,
closing me in and them out.
safe and trapped, no difference.
"Keep moving”,I'm told, mostly just
mouthing and motioning.
That's right, I think,
stifle the crying before it's even a thought.
Just a little further and how grateful,
the tic toc is killin' me,
pulling me,practically dead weight,
but it don't show,not when you are
in it for the green.
“Why”,some ask, “you was grown?”
they see a different me in the mirror and
expect more than silence.
I lay there waiting, a swift kick and he says,
“you best be on your feet private!”
The familiar ,lying smile never left,
as i drop my dirty camos, a crumpled pile
and scramble for cover.
Shame on me,twice, at least, probably more.
The shaggy strands do worse
then tickle which is why my feet resist,
not wanting to remember
their place in line. Now they long
to forget , their place to rest.