Layers

no sanctuary
from distant memories
that haunt
and scratch
and tear
and rip 
and stomp on now

....and slap tomorrow across the face

a small pause

here 
and 
there

relief from "him" and "that" & "those things"

lungs filled
eyes shut

-no....nothing really helps-

unless I dream

to swing from branches
on starry nights

wind slapped limbs
move too fast to think

crying/laughing
face to the moon

honey pumps through veins
and
wildfire burns through ugly

swaddled so tight
in a blanket of black

I POP from my shell

windburned skin
falls 
in layers
like onions

Does it burn your eyes to see me change?