I live with a fear that slowly burns
Of the discord that swells within those I love
Made suppressed until a high tide
Splashes the serene coast. This is denial.
I am so easily disrupted
At the turn of wind from sweet to slapping,
The soft dole of a grey sky cracked by lightning,
Your melted honey-brown eyes snapping to black –
I don’t even know how to ask, just stumble back aghast,
My sweet little receptors blasted –

I wish I were made of more bone
And less pink ****** tissue
That secretes revealing fluids
Of naiveté and woe.