bone-flute woman

There are screams inside.

They’re trapped
in my bones…secured by
sinew so they don’t sidle out and terrify me.

But, I know they’re there.

Every time I open my throat to let truth fly
they rush for the opening –
howling wraiths
single-mindedly seeking escape.

So, I close off truth,
and they retreat back to my marrow…and gnaw.

Some of my bones whistle now…there are so many holes.

I’m a bone-flute woman.
I moan when the wind blows.

But, I keep those screams trapped.
I’ll disappear keeping those screams tucked away.
They can never come out.

Without them I’m not sure
there would be any
substance to me. I might sift quietly
into a gray and blurry pile
if the screams tear themselves away.

They’ve been there
so long I don’t know the shape of me
without them.

I’m afraid to…

Not that I’ll be hideous…no,
I know that shape well.

No…I’m afraid my shape is Boudica
strong and beautiful. Then
I’ll have to face the
that I’ve lived as hideous

when I could have lived
as beauty and strength.

© 2014 Tracie Nichols

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