advice from friends who seem to think I'm someone else
they love him this someone else they've painted this potential me created in their image
while the flesh me fails to explain the experience of this pulsing straightjacketed brain
the drop of errant blood that pollutes the rest
what it's like treading water with concrete shoes
and how I tiptoe like a cat burglar around double helix spiral staircases trying to avoid the mischievous child who hides in dark corners lobbing sticks of dynamite in my path
I explain all this but they are not appeased
they trumpet laughter through their scaly trunks
I turn and walk out the door into my daily hailstorm unprotected