I behaved.
I was cliff, barrier, great wall. I received all your storms and waves, felt the salt creep in my cracks; I patched them up with flour and water.
Still, I behaved.
I was nest, nursery, ambulance getting shot at; I tried to catch the bullets between my teeth, clatter of broken plates.
Still, I behaved.
I was bullseye, red dot on my forehead; I saw the beauty in my chasms.
Still, I behaved.
I was lamb, dog on the doorstep, my antlers refusing to shed; I held them between my fingers, paper cuts bleeding like massacres.
Still, I behaved.
I was jester, scapegoat, fool who lost their path; I begged. I screamed and cried in that invisible room; no echo came back.
I was dead star, cut sunbeam, hair cut with dull scissors. I was dirty fingernails and worms. I was coyote and grave. I was quiet.
I behaved.
