Pillow
The pillow over my face,
a stupid argument,
the struggle for air,
the only time he tried
to kill me. He didn’t like
words that slipped
from my mouth,
wanted the roar of ocean
in my ears, his words.
His indentations,
punches in the sheetrock—
shipwrecked emotions.
And for a while, I stayed on,
I’m now red-faced
to admit it.
I was a stepped-on
origami locked
in his tight box.
Slow to break the latch,
once I did,
I inched away,
slowly,
so as not to spook him,
began to talk freely—
couldn’t stop.
This time, my voice drilled
through granite
and magma.
You could hear me
on the other side of the earth.