inside, i asked you to speak your mind
and got no answer
as expected, really
since the you that sits at the back of my brain
is usually silent

and i asked you to tell me with your hands
what you think of me

push me, pinch me
drag your nails along my self-esteem
and leave me marks to be proud of, give me war paint
give me scars
do what you will to my body, take what you want
from my words

just leave my mind alone, leave it
to process this all later
after the blood has dried
and the room is empty
and i begin to feel full again

i wanted you to tell me, but by accident
that your mind is just like mine
and i don't need to worry
that when you open my body up
my mind will unfold with it
and you won't like what you see

and so i distract you from my thoughts
with the disposable skin that protects them
from you

i don't think i've ever felt that my life was completely my own and i don't think i ever will. i am thrown off-guard by people who simply choose to live. mesmerized by people who throw themselves into their life, as if that is all they are here to do. mind-boggled by people who've never considered the possibility that their life may be bigger than their own, that it could be -- easily -- if they'd only let it. contentment is not in my vocabulary, it is not in my bones; i don't sing in the shower, i breathe.