The lie is that
I'll step away.
I'll stomp.
Tricks to make myself 
second guess and forgo my fall.

The truth is that
arms outstretched 
welcome this heavy heart.

These arms of mine.
Always were.
Always.

Little eyes. 
In little windows.
Heat always rises. 
Face painted red.
Brain melting
and running out of my mouth. 
Makes my words stick together 
and come out mushy.
Peach pits in my stomach.
Tear through the gut. 
Twisting.
Contracting.
Restricting.
Screaming.
Wait...
SCRE­AMING!
So I listen.
Today I put my ear to the glass.
Lies,
opportunity
and a choice. 
Little eyes.
In little windows.
Come see me.

High waisted red dress pants.
Stripped crop top. 
90's chunk shoes. 
70's suede jacket with the faux fur trim. 
I am ******* glorious. 
I walk amidst you.
And I lose traction. 
I swallow a stone
and sink. 
Sink.
Sink.
Sink.
Cover me in crustaceans.
Let me fill with water.
I won't catch my breathe this time. 
I am blue.
I am raging toward you 20 feet tall. 
I am rolling in and out. 
The moon is my girl
and I'll serenade her tonight.
Sweet is this sorrow. 
And I a song I've sung. 
But half asleep 
and half in space.
Now the words,
sharp,
crisp,
pointing.
Close your eyes,
breathe your wave,
tingle
and sink.

In a state of being exposed.
Bring forth thyself and bare it.
Within the dark slimy chasm called "us" I've plucked shame.
Too naked for my liking.
Clothes of conformity fit perfectly.
But the tag's not been cut.
Oh, it's irritating!
But in a way that festers quietly and often unobserved.   
It doesn't like being ignored. 
It needs my attention.
So it twists. 
And morphs.
And contorts. 
And it all just gets weird.
I'm lost now in a wacky space.
On a road that doesn't exist and goes nowhere.
I wander through.
Propelled by some mysterious innate drive. 
I find more roads that don't exist and go nowhere.
But seemly by chance I find a hole.
It's existence appears fluid.
Slightly opaque.
And within, 
a note.
Waiting. 
"The ******* tag man!"
THE ******* TAG!
I pull.
I yank.
I bite at it. 
But the ***** won't budge.
So I consult the universe in regards to a remedy for this pesky passenger. 
This way will work.
Until it doesn't. 
This is it.
Until it is not.
Someone yells,
(although I think it was me?)
"LOOK at the tag!"
And wouldn't you know it 
but there's a picture of me,
all of me,
every inch, 
exposed.

At that time
the skies raged.
And I was whisked away.
Twisted up into space.
Folded into the fabric.
Set down in a world without woe. 
Blissful slumber.
But my stay was not for long
and I took to turbulent seas.
Once ashore,
I wept.
I had but a broken shell and a ripped up map.
I didn't know then 
but I also had a vessel to build.
I stumbled my way through construction. 
I couldn't find the blueprint.
Rather, I didn't know to look. 
It would go smoothly for a time.
Until a measurement was short.
Or a thumb smashed.
Nonetheless it went on. 
That day.
When I finally saw what I was doing. 
That day.
Measurements still come up short.
And thumbs are still smashed.
But I can see the vessel I am to build.
And how to build it.

It is said 
we need protected.
A righteous (wo)man will do.
Across the sea comes fury 
from them.

It is said 
they need protected.
A righteous (wo)man will do. 
Across the sea comes fury 
from us.

All our eyes wide and waxed with water,
clutching love close and caged
while righteous men and women laugh above our heads.
Counting coins. 
Contriving dread.

These are (wo)men of fear.

It has us hidden
but visits so we know it can see us.
It holds my nose tightly and pushes hard against my forehead. 
It should hurt but it doesn't. 
A not so coy hand in my pants.
We become invisible to the rest.
Darkness.
But it's eyes gleam.
All I can see.
Sadness. 
And stolen sadness.
The two are overbearing. 
But I don't care!
I twist around and push it beneath me. 
Deep, deep, deep.
Eyes shut now.
My hair whips.
Head back.
Mouth open.
My universe expands with heavy breath.
It's sweetness and sorrow. 
But mine.