yes, I say, sing your song of normal, and tell that to the young woman, small and narrow, almost fragile
with the red x marks drawn across her pale white skin
who’s afraid to tell because you might run away, and all she needs is someone to be there in the dark lonely hours of the night, when all of the tiny voices
gain strength and learn power over you
when everything inside you cries to be released to see the light of day to be judged and found forgiven
and the night cries a low long howl, a train across the tracks in the dark shadow of earth
and we laugh and cry and I fall and I fall and I fall
and all the world spins like a top on the grimy kitchen floor, tracing spirals through dusty time as I sink through the hours of another night spent
afraid by Johnson Hagood is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.