werewaiting

ⓣℏΞ circus in me

when
the voices
first started
speaking to me
they were splintery.

they
screamed
out of the
shower
nozzle,
falling like
needles from
a salt shaker.

they came
out cold
and clear.

they told me you were
waiting to be born.

as i listened 
i grew a 
hole in my head
the size of a penny  
just
behind my ear.

a small
white root
pushed up
through it.

at night the root
gets longer
and reaches for the keyhole
to the rectangular metal box
where
i locked away
my dreams.

i confess, 
i locked away the dreams that
grew
out of reach.

i tried to hide them
from the voices.

now the circus in me
presses outward,
mushrooming in the dark.