He is fall and she is summer
Calm and hot and colorful
Beautifully ethereal
Warm down to the atoms
In my bones.

He is fall and she is summer
And they've been new for centuries
Oxymoronic and lovely and
Warm down to the atoms
In my bones.

He is fall and she is summer
And people like them don't exist
Just a figment of realistic imaginings
Warm down to the atoms
In my bones

And there is no rhyme nor reason
And there is no word or articulation
And I cannot describe or indicate
And I cannot understand or make sense

But they are warm
Down to the atoms
In my bones.

Similar to body language
My typescript is a message
I sign every comment
To maintain a sense of distance.

I am an open wound
I can only try to heal
I push instead of pull
I rend rather than seal.

I want no one near me
I will run from closeness
I want someone near me
It makes no sense, but I digress.

My body language is open
My typescript language closed
My language itself undecided
As I type
                 feel
                            speak
paradoxical prose.

It takes little more than a kind word
To carry me through a month
To hold me up against battle
To force me, against trials, to triumph.

It takes little more than genuine praise
To burn a soul to memory
To lose all sense of proper speech
To fly unbound and freely.

And with a word comes a smile
I can't get it off my face
With a word comes gratitude
So potent my hands shake.

With a word comes a flattered feeling
That blossoms just under my ribs
With a word comes a jittery, happy panic
On which I cannot put a lid.

I laugh boisterously
I forget my usual frown
With a word I am lifted
And I will never come back down.

My lips are moving but my brain is not
I've got my smile handy, I'll never be caught
I'm nervous but it'll never show on my face
I'll pretend I fit, I belong in this place.

My hands aren't clammy, I don't have a stutter
My voice is steady though my legs are rubber
I'm sitting down, no one gets to see
I'm nervous, I'm unsure, but I can fake happy.

I'm an actor, a professional, I'm perfect at what I do
I'm smiling, I'm laughing, but, god, how I hate you.
I fly through moods as though it's my sole purpose
I go by an alias so no one knows I wrote this.

I'm nervous, I'm nervous, I'm ******* terrified
But far be it from me to be typically traumatized
I'm a 'survivor', I'm doing just fine, I'm not panicking
I'll never display the bad moments publicly.