You attract...
Silly little girl giggles with admiration and the "oh you're so funnies".
I can't be a silly whip of half meaning amusement.
I'm not that girl.
I can't be...

You don't want admiration.
No, you do want it but you don't need it.
You need someone who will look at you when she laughs and means it.
You need someone who's going to sit down across from you on some chaotic night,
A night where nothing about the day made sense
And you're still swirling in a fog of your own perspective.
That's when you'll need this woman.

A conversation that clambers up slow,
Like steadying yourself after a carnival ride.
You'll trigger a vulnerable ***** by a wayward comment.
That's when it will happen.
Blindsided be ruthless honesty.
A sharp cut through the bravado *******...

She'll take that loop and jump in head first,
Feet landing solid on your insecurities.
One by one all of the hidden thoughts about yourself will come to life.
Every one of your self loathing fears and regretted actions.
All the ever present flaws you hold in your hands will be taken and laid out...

One uncomfortable, excruciating reminder at a time.
Every quirk you hate,
Every past stumble into a wall,
Every stitch in the side of your pride will be brought to light.

Presented back to you through new eyes.
Picking and dissecting and analyzing,
Whatever it was or is,
That makes the ground you walk upon gravel filled.
All your shame and remorse could be embellished;
Projector like against the writing on the walls.
Things you wish to hide or fix would be emblazoned like a gaudy pin on your shirt.

Your inner mind dwellings, torn down to petty pieces at your feet.
All of this would be blown back into the mask you try to wear that's a size to big.
Once the pulling and scrapping of every bit of shadow feelings and impressions you have been harboring deep inside are collected...
Covering the table,
Strewn in no particular order.

This woman will pick it all up in a sweeping display.
Fluttering around in waves of bouncy escape.
She'll gather every last part and fold her hands.
Then slide them into her pockets that have remained unfilled on purpose.
That's where, the last however many hours, will stay.
Budded up tight and inside somewhere safe for you .

You'll look at the empty table.
Maybe with uplifted eyes.
You'll look back at the cause of this character dismembering.
And see that her eyes have never wavered.

I hope when you get that moment...
That moment that you can just sense is a profound thing.
I hope you feel real acceptance,
Real faith,
Real love.



*© NDHK