i draw flowers and spirals
up and down my arm and they
casually
ask if i want
tattoos.
as if permanence
isn't
terrifying.

"I'm sorry," I remembered saying.
"I'm having a hard time with words right now."
My brother nods his head,
unsurprised and worried.
"I'm going to go get another drink," he says,
and I understand that much,
before words lose all meaning
again.

I’ve been told I have walls,
That aren’t too easy to break,
They’ve been up for so long,
That my smile is entirely fake.
They’re made of unshed tears and a broken soul,
Of emotions that have taken their costly toll.
Tear them down if you feel you must,
But it takes too much to gain my trust
Strip me down to every pebble and stone,
Shatter me like a mirror and break me to the bone,
But don’t you see you’ve already lost,
For even my walls have a cost.