bughouse poems and art

Voices of the hive
Crimes from my past

Stare at my markings
I was only six
Ravished and assimilated

Now do it again
With your mess hall talk
Your voices and my solitude
I’m not contagious!
All of you, so normal

And my son had to die.

A human child
I was only six
Raped of self

Now do it again
With your mess hall games
Dialog is broken
You fear me
All of you, so normal

And my son had to die.

Crew at the mess hall:

You cancel my humanity
Yet granting guilt, shame, and remorse

I am alone and dreaming aliens

But you are erratic. Conflicted.
What are your intentions?
My humanity is lost.

I don’t wear your uniform. I have no quarters.

I have no lover.

And My Son had to die.