Nineteen

it stops
and i cant get there
right at that moment
when im supposed to fly
i cant get there

he taught me at three
he showed me how at three

the sun was muted thru the thin yellow curtains and the breeze blew them lightly as i lay on my back watching them dance as he taught me at the age of three

when i was a bean
i could get there
and i flew and quivered
i felt no shame
it hid
bottled up behind a secret door in my mind
waiting for nineteen

my hands never worked
my brain cant untangle the block
the door is locked
i struggle to soar
i quiver no more

i search for the key
i search
i search
i search
its a mystery to me

i am undone

when i was that little bean buried underneath his weight watching the thin yellow curtains blow and prance i had no idea that shame would permeate a secret part of my mind in the form of a musty dusty invisible film that i cannot control or see or touch or be

i cant crack the code.

By Erika L. Ganier