Space Monkey

They all revise my

History as if they were

Always on my side,

But I remember

What I really am to them:

A space monkey, the

One they pinned their dreams

On, kept in a cage, fed drugs,

Forgot on weekends.

Strapped in a tube and

Shot into space. They don’t know

How cold it is here.

Their show of support

Rings hollow as I labor

To save a world

Not my own, drifting

Further from who I am and

My still beating heart.

A space monkey... | Monkey in space, Astronaut artwork, Monkey art

The Shape in the Stone

Each day I chisel

The rough surface of this rock,

Trying to find the

Sculpture. I chip off

The words I don’t want to say,

“I don’t feel close to

You right now,” “I take

Pills to make life bearable,”

“If I could run, I

Would.” Another chip.

“I know you sense the dread in

Me, but haven’t the

Words to express it.”

“My best days are behind me.

They flew past while I

Was waiting for some

Validation that didn’t

Come. There is less of

Me each day.” I would

Rather die with these words not

Said, than hurt any

Of you. Alas am

I fated to wound you to

The core. Chip, chip, chip.