I learned all about paralysis
when I found myself waking,
cheek pressed against the wetness
of a blank journal page, aching
with the stifled screams of
my unvoiced muse.

Perhaps it was the cold hand
of my nightmare that shook
me awake, Vulnerability-
who carried himself in vain
and laced his gaze with the
severity of a thousand swords
bracing for impact, framed with
the familiar mask of the Joker-
whom I have become.

Crippled by a force almost demonic
which hovered my thoughts over paper
close enough to almost feel them come alive,
yet distant enough to watch them
disintegrate from the rooftops and
collect as a *** of torment
stuck permanently in the part of my throat
I could not bear to swallow.

To unravel like the peel of
a summer tangerine, lying exposed-
cool air breathing under naked skin
I have taught myself to shelter
from the judgment of  bitter eyes
and words put together only
to criticize.

but in visions I see a girl, dark eyes and
charcoal hair spilling over paper
covered in pretty penmanship
and she is fearless-
hand dancing along to the symphony
of her thoughts, staccato beats
and Allegro! her passion encompasses
more than just ink on lines, you
can see them echo and reverberate
fragmented poetry through the channels
of her veins

and it is so evident- she is free.

and for her, my dream expands further
and I begin to unravel words
stuck trapped under thick orange skin
and invisible walls designed to shelter,
exposing myself to him-
my nightmare, and the retinas
coated effortlessly in judgment

and I am reborn today rather
than tomorrow, eyes a little brighter
and this time, I awaken to the aroma
of new beginnings.