Buried Alive

Buried Alive, 2010 V. Ortiz Vazquez House play with a neighbor friend Older than I is he, yet not old enough Husband and wife, house wife Bread winner comes home Home, field between houses Time for bed, naked from the waist down I lay Caught, I’m to blame Shamed with no explanation I should have known better Older than I is he, yet not old enough Locked inside, exposed to me High schooler, teenager; younger I am Adult act becomes mine Young I am, no stranger is he Salty, whitish, I don’t understand Shamefully I lurk around, searching without understanding Finding similar, no teenager an adult No teenager is he, still young I am Sled to the side, incognito a touch Finger nail’s cut An excitement unforeseen Unexplored essence exposed to me by his touch Tragedy Blamed, shamed, grounded Who is to blame? Trinity: him, you, they Should have known better, Female I am One forgotten, hazy memories, not even his name Second not seen for years, learned of recent lost—grandpa dies The other, seen by occasional visits Declining health, prostrated to a wheelchair Life’s move, checked yet not checkmate Here I stand, age 33 Foggy days, shatter pieces Lights out Checkmate since childhood Life cut short Living without breathing World’s brightness taken away Shifted to black and white Muted Silence my home Distance my protection Youngster, buried alive