The Iron Gate

The door leads nowhere you’d want to be.
Explore the negative spaces, the devil’s work
through your fragile, young body.
When the iron gate shuts, you are always trapped inside.
You don’t know the outside.
A song sings you home,
lacerates the grape of you,
the truth untold in you,
the core – the seeds of you.
Indecisive incisions yet such precision
in removing your name.
You forget you had a name, or to capitalize
your initials – as.
You strain to stay inside the gate.