The band tightens
Around my chest
And I struggle to breathe.
Tears build up
Behind my eyes
But I cannot cry.
The room closes
In upon me
But I cannot move.
He asks me
What's wrong
But I can't find the words.
Locked in a cage
Of my own design
And I've lost the key.
Let me drink myself
Into oblivion
That I may forget
Where I am
Who I am
How I am

The ability to listen

To have awareness of not only the monumental amount of good
But the awful truths
To open your eyes-
Your mind and heart wide
So wide you swallow galaxies whole
Taking in each detail
Each minuet make up
Extravagantly beautiful
With every individual perception
Every method inside ones madness
To hold onto that and bring it to fruition

Is a speechless-
Breathtaking thing
We all have this ability in one form or the other

Use it and create the difference

(C) Tiffanie Noel Doro

Too lazy to be ambitious,
I let the world take care of itself.
Ten days' worth of rice in my bag;
a bundle of twigs by the fireplace.
Why chatter about delusion and enlightenment?
Listening to the night rain on my roof,
I sit comfortably, with both legs stretched out.

Do you have a boyfriend?
No way to defend
From an ignorant question like that
And it sort of offends
Want the moment to end.
Hiding it's not something that I work at
But then again
I expect in the end
It's easier just to pretend
And say, "Oh... Right now I'm not ready for that."
Try to change the subject again.

"You'll find a good man,
All the pretty girls can."
I smile, nauseous, and look down, demur,
Know she won't understand
And I'm wringing my hands
Trying to have the right answer for her.
Don't feel like taking a stand
So I just say offhand,
"Oh, thank you. Yeah, that is the plan."
And quell the resentment that stirs.

You'll meet a sweet guy
You'll surely catch his eye.
Those words start a fire in my mind.
I just want to say,
"Actually, that's not the way-
I'd much rather call a girl mine."
But instead I keep all of my
Anger locked up inside,
And say, "That's what I'm looking to find."

Their questions and comments march on without end,
No matter what happens, the talk always tends
To turn toward finding a good man for me.
I do my best to be quiet and blend,
And sometimes when they speak I like to pretend
They say "her" and "she"
And not "him" and "he"
It makes it easier then.
I can try to pretend
They'd accept a girlfriend
And with her just how happy I'd be.
I can try to pretend
They'd respect a life without men.
But what I really wish they respected is
Me.