That vulnerable place in you? When you’re cracked wide open, that tiny thin trembling part of you? You take your instrument of art and pull it across that part of you, like a bow on a violin string, and it sings.
Clap, clap, clap
‘Round n ‘round n ‘round
Do you hear that sound?
Sing and dance
What do girls have in common?
No, not their bodies
I am keeping score
When will her turn come?
Stop and sit
An unwanted game
Whistles so loud
Stares like daggers
Piercing her skin
At her body
Ring, ring, ring
In her ears, eyes, and heart
Forever in her mind
Look, look, look
It never stops
Make it stop
I will never forget
What were you wearing?
What were you doing?
What were you thinking?
Don’t dare blame her
Survivor of countless crimes
Horrible atrocious acts
It is not her
It is them
Are there levels of love?
Different types of love?
Various flavors and scents?
What names do they have?
Teacher and student.
There must be more, I am sure.
Some love is pure, gentle, unconditional.
Some love is loud, extreme, hot and cold, wild, untamable.
Why do people love?
For our survival.
But still, why do people love the way they do?
What do people love?
The person in front of them or their own reflection in the other person’s eyes?
The essence of another or their outer shell?
The way their eyes crinkle and close when they smile.
Those beautiful teeth.
The way they look up shyly.
The twinkle in their eyes.
The wisdom and genuineness that pours out of their mouth.
The love and integrity they embody and personify.
How I long for those eyes and that smile.
The broken, pure heart.
The lovely, kind words.
The gentle, sweet soul.
People are like a white light from afar.
They all look the same at first glance.
But put them through a prism and see the rainbow that emerges.
The beauty tenfold.
Gorgeous contrasts and similar shades.
Angry reds and placid blues.
Marvelous purples, lilacs, and maroons.
Regal blacks and sunny yellows.
Delicate pinks and stormy greys.
A massive, unique array.
A symphony of feelings and thoughts.
Not always a pleasant one at that.
A plethora of choices and names.
Weeds and flowers.
Some are trees.
Solid and strong.
Bright and lively.
Green with envy.
Evergreen with wealth and youth.
Some are so bright.
Almost white, but alas those are only a few.
It is funny how the things that are too much make us feel.
Too much of a bad thing is terrible.
That is understandable.
But what about too much of a good thing?
Too much love.
Too much freedom.
Too much joy.
Why do they scare us away?
Somewhere deep down we feel like we don’t deserve too much.
We feel like we can’t be entrusted with such a large responsibility.
Too many options to choose from.
So many places to travel.
All the foods.
Those of us faced with this dilemma are surely the lucky ones.
Perhaps their empathy is what stops them in their tracks.
The knowledge that most people don’t get too much or even enough.
But then again there is another fear, another emotion that stops them.
It is a fear of being seen. Of being judged.
A fear of their own power.
It is funny how we can be afraid of our self.
Funny and sad.
Fear of the raw, unfiltered, undiluted power that we all have.
Our upbringing and society’s laws cage us and inhibit our magic.
The lucky ones realize this and do their best to undo the damage.
To free themselves.
The rest live like caged birds.
Singing to please their masters.
To get some food and water.