Maybe* it's in your genes...

That thing about you that I could never explain
That thing about you that made my eyes glitter
That thing about you that made my heart stutter
That thing about you that made my smile wider
That thing about you that made my body shiver
That thing about you that made my nights sweeter

**Maybe it's in your jeans...

You're like a tattoo
On a secret part of my skin
A tattoo that I got in my youth
A tattoo that I don't quite regret
A tattoo that I cover up

But in the bathroom,
All alone,
I run my hands over you
Feel the texture on my skin,
And I smile

You're like a tattoo
*On a very secret spot

Sometimes I'm jealous of the poor
The financially poor
The ones that live in houses so close they're all like roommates
No, it isn't hypocrisy
This is the saying
They were born in the wild,
Learned to adapt early.
They fight for their share
And they're fair, about their share
Because we're all just trying to make it

Sometimes I'm jealous of the rich
The truly rich
The ones whose brothers don't have to share a name
The ones whose women they protect as their own
As their sisters, as their mothers
This is family
This is community
They respect from the old to the young
And protect those of their kind
But they give everyone a fair shot,
Because we're all just trying to make
**it

Have you ever?
Rolled in a field of the softest grass?
Lain in a basket of petals?
Been surrounded gently by feathers like clouds?

Have you ever?
Looked into the bottomless soul of innocence?
Heard the dancing of the winds like angelic music?
Smelled the musk of a sunny early morning?

Have you ever?
Looked into the future and seen boundless energy and love?
Felt the present with purpose and contentment?
*Said goodbye to your past?

The last time I felt like this must have been when I was a little girl.
When I felt special. When I felt loved. When I felt precious.

Before everything.

I remember grass being so green it was glowing yellow, and water being so majestically clear you could see a rainbow within it.
I remember laughing so beautifully, I felt like a song.
I remember dancing so freely, I felt like I could fly.

I remember so many things, otherwise blurred by the scars of the aftermath...
The one I could never heal from...
The one...

The one I can see in my rear view mirror
And
For
Once
*I feel free

Things are great.
Everything's great.
Except me.

I don't want to be here.
Yet I am

No chains on my wrists
No shackles on my ankles
Yet I am here
Where I don't want to be

There's no gun to my head
No knife to my throat
Nobody watching me,
Holding me captive

So why am I here?
**When I don't want to be?