to be vulnerable
is to be fearless.
to accept the gift
of salty tears dripping
down your throat.

the twitch in your
lips when you speak
from the deep gates
inside of your mind.

i want to be fearless
i grow in it everyday.

i thought you liked
your girls fearless.
you love anne frank,
and you love malala,
you love the black sheep.
i thought you would like
me.

i thought once the gates
of my vulnerability swung
open, you'd keep going in.

you stopped and left
footprints trailing toward
the entryway. maybe it
was too scary for you to
explore?

sometimes i am
scared of it too.