I’ve been worrying about my laugh lately
It sounds different than it used to
Different than when I was a child
Or even a teenager
I worry because I don’t know what’s causing it
I worry it’s a bad thing
Maybe my emotions’ sounds
That is
The sounds they send out of me
From brain to nerve to muscle to lung
Maybe they’ve become dampened and filtered
Echoing down halls
Grown dark and narrow
Crooked and turning this way and that
Maybe a twist in my heart
Collapses the sound trying to squeeze through
Maybe you’re just hearing a prerecorded voicemail
Sent by automatic, polite sectors of my brain
To field what it recognized as a joke
Because the guy who normally handles that
Is holed up in a bed somewhere, sick and asleep
Or maybe
Just maybe
It’s the other way around
You’ve come running through my halls
Mapping out the twists and turns
Knocking down walls
Sweeping up clutter
And shaking me awake
To show me a world
Where I can laugh so hard
That tears come to my eyes
And people turn and stare