But not Fish,
she'd say,
"Fish isn't damaged like the rest of us".

"I bought a lucky charm,
it's of a knitted fish,
because that's what you are,
my lucky little Fish"

"You're my kind little guppy"
"You're my protective piranha"
"Solitary Angel-Fish"

With all these names,
all this faith in me,
day after day
told
that I am their
"Lucky little Fish"
all because I'm not damaged.

Her forrest eyes looking into mine,
the admiration in her face,
the hint of hope in that stranger's,
at the mention
of my not being damaged.

"You're a quiet one, Fish,
but you're not damaged,
you're okay,
you're miraculous"

In that moment I felt guilty.
Thank you for believing that,
thank you for holding me high...

if only I could not lie to you.

I'd gotten so close to wanting to tell the world
no I'm not okay
No I haven't eaten today,
nor yesterday,
yes I'd like a hug
Yes I'd like to die.

But it's that faith
from those who are undoubtedly wounded
that tightens my binds.
I'm grateful
for the way they press into my skin,
holding everything in...

I needed that.

I needed that burst to regenerate
my need to keep quiet.

So I shall.
So I'll never stop.
I'll forever be your
"Lucky Little Fish"